Moxie
is a petite   little      old lady I would love to get drunk w/
&                     bang one hot afternoon;
followed by thunder bursts of hard rain
                 soaking our t-shirts;
& lips          kissing in the wet
    like 13-year-olds on a             rooftop;
fog obscuring the    rubble, so soon after
popping her ******* -
& she wriggles back                 into  her soaked denim short-shorts;
:Moxie knows I would do her
like a wounded, dying animal
yearning        to see     his god in the flesh: Oh,
me of little faith in      the tight   snooch
                           of My sweet   Moxie!!!
[get thee behind me!             she moans]
in the real world
              the presence of god is palpable; [                ] || [                ]
had ye the faith of a yeast infection,
ye would be getting laid right now -         Oh, poet!!!     Oh, poet!!!