Never Too Late to Fu*k a F*x (sorta) 

My girls graze on the grassy slopes

Above the umber coastal beach

With its glassine, viridescent-azure waves,

Each curling lazily in upon itself.

Below it lies the nude beach

And today I can count at least

15 amazing female bodies

All roasting their tenderest parts

Equally under the ferocious

Glare of the California sun.

It must hurt them terribly

To return home, later make love

To whichever stiff willie

Has been designated for an evening poke,

With all that tender skin

Around the nether-most parts

Done to a bright lobster red!

But no worries, I was told

By one whom I would have happily

lathered-up in sun-creme, earlier in the day

Had I been asked to do so.

In contrast, my girls, above the

Sandy human rotisserie,

Continue to munch contentedly

Giving no thought at all

To the randy he-goat

My able dog managed to keep

At a distance, since all they want

Is to be left alone and content

With all that lovely grass

That waves gently in the on-shore breeze.

There’s no connection apparent

To all that pneumatic human ass

That captivates the lustful eye

Of any shepherd boy lucky

Enough to stand above unseen

And entertain randy thoughts

Of his own, lost in wet dreams,

(And not of fecund sheep,

I might quickly add).

Alas, there’s no time at all

For even the quickest quick brown fox

To elude this youthful horny dog

Of three legs, who has just impulsively

Blooshed his ambitious wad

Over the cliff-face, unseen, and

Right onto one of the human f*xes

Below, who thought she’d been splattered

By errant seagull effluent, rather

Than by a shepherd-boy’s seminal thoughts!

Somewhat later, the naked beauties

Are packed up and returned

To their cars in the parking turnout,

While above, our Little Boy Blooey

Smirks as he sheepishly herds his charges

Back to the barn, unwitnessed by anyone

Other than the wheeling sea birds above,

Who must be smiling to themselves by now

In their own uniquely ornithological manner.

Another day at the beach,

Sun setting upon the sunburned girls

And the squabbling gulls

And the placid ewes

(ewe might say).