KYSO Flash
Knock-Your-Socks-Off Art and Literature
Issue 3: Spring 2015
Poem: 200 words

Vicarious Census Count

by Bill Mohr
The population’s grown a third since I first heard about the boy-toy of a dildo,
But I’ve yet to find a soul mate who savors the mimetic joy of a dildo.

So much yearning’s shy! My best close friend swore me to secrecy,
How with his insatiable lover his hard-on delighted in annoying her dildo.

As I was saying to my paramour the other humid afternoon,
There’s nothing like a nap after one has dallied with the decoy of a dildo.

In theory, everything quotes itself, if only in the nocturnal reprise 
that I love you as purely as this unalloyed dildo.

Every language has its special sovereignty of lust
An umlaut in a capitulating groan, the tilde in the employ of a dildo.

I don’t want anything more exotic than a blunt wish to be fucked
Until I’m too exhausted to absorb any more of the sangfroid of a dildo.

Mid-afternoon, a pillow athwart her comforter
Meant someone other than me had tagged the buoy of her dildo.

How much did you miss out on, Bill, being an ordinary, unimaginative lover,
and never knowing the trompe l’oeil of her orgasms as the envoi of a dildo.

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