If
she walks past
One
more time
I
may have to barf all over
If
only to prevent myself from hollering
Goddammit
Across
the office
You
are so fit
please
have
sex with me
NOW
God
It’s
painful
How
perfect she is
It
stings
My
eyes
To
look at her
My
heart aches
My
balls yearn
For
my ego
To
kick into gear
And
get my cock some action
Then
we’ll ALL be happy
Work
interrupted
As
always
she
walks through
My back
straightens
To
see over the office divider things
to
catch a few extra seconds of ass.
I
worry
At
times
That
some may have cottoned on
To
the correlation
Between
her half-hourly appearances
And
the sporadic improvement of my posture.
When
I know no one’s looking
I’ll
stare
And
take it all in.
In
all its glory
I’d
tell you about her eyes
But
I’m leering at her mouth
I’d
describe
But
her cheekbones
God
Her
back
When
she arches
To stretch
at the copier
Her
neck
When
her hair’s up
Her
ribs
Her
tits when she bends
Her
hips
Her
waist when she tends
To
lean for more paper
Inspires
a swelling
that
causes a tightening
of
the trouser.
If
only she knew
What
was lurking beneath
When
I offer a smile
Of
the friendliest order
To
mask all the sordid
Thoughts
of the sort
Of
filth and disorder
That
ought to be more than the physical.
A
pristine face
Of
immaculate make-up.
I
hope
One
day
I
will ruin it.
