Bad Poetry Thursday: Ode to the Woman of My Dreams

Bad Poety Thursday ... apropos of nothing ...

You can see right through me
Like clear Lucite or acrylic
My body trembles like a badly tuned
Diesel Engine.

My heart races when our eyes meet
Pitter pat, Pitter pat, Pitter pat
A metronome set at 180
Beats per minute.

I grab your waist and thrust
My tongue down your throat
And swirl it around as I would
A Q-Tip in my ear canal
Always careful not to create
Wax blockage or perforate
My eardrum.

Oh woman of my dreams
When you are able to come up for air
Your gaze meets mine
Surprise marks your visage
A deer caught in headlights

You draw a deep breath
At the top of your lungs
Melodious and sweet
Like a chorus of angels on high
You shout, “Help! Police!”

He gets letters:

"You know, I'm going to be really sad when you actually find someone on here, I always look forward to the latest Mr. Banana Hammock postings. Who will mock Omari when you're gone? Who will amuse the masses with artfully Photoshopped photos?"