My Bloomsday

Thursday, 17 June 2004 By Frank Blues
Secrets they said. Locked in the room with the other worshippers. I had a hard time holding it all together. She stepped out of the shadows and said come take my hand. Led me to the bedroom and swore eternal fealty to me and me dick. Well if only. Just grabbed the pecker and frigged me clean all over the bed sheets. Oh I do pity those chambermaids. Then we left hand in hand for the pub.

Our follow devil lovers were locked in a trance. The trance that traps us all. Just counting the days till the axe falls. Mistaken in the belief that anything matters at all. On the order we grabbed our sausage and pounded the wall. The red blood flowed down until we were drowned. Floating onto the edge of life with my last eyes I gazed on her mons pubis. From that berth I was launched, against the tide; floating ontop the prow of a royal bitch I conquered it all. Till lost in France and in love I foundered on the rock of good Cuntingham. Vive la France! I tossed it off as I fall into the Seine and floated away.

Now I wash the hall and wait for thee. Oh my love slap it sideways; grasp the reed and say after me: Satan please set me free!
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