my last conversation with a supermodel

well, sure
you're a sex Goddess
your body is all hard
and you can do kegal exercises
like no woman i've ever met

but,
i'm sorry
you're not my type

... yes yes,  i know
you're all woman
and I should be soooo turned on.


Fuck you.

You never make me laugh
and i don't give a crap whether your ass is tight
and stomach so taught a quarter will bounce a meter off it 
-- your body will sag eventually

So, I'm going off with my friend
she's so kind

and her eyes
are alive... I can see God in them
they're so bright.

You might be a Goddess...but
you're not God.

Yeah,
I know

She's got a few extra pounds, but
I think she's adorable...

when I grab her and feel her body
against mine, i can't think of anything
but taking her right there and then

Oh, sure, you're hot
but... I can't compete
If i don't satisfy you once,
then what?

You fly off with the first barbarian or something?

Well, fuck that.

I love her,
she's so smart
we can talk about zen
or Christ

we can sing the lyrics to 50s songs
or kick it to hip-pop -- and sure
we're idiots
but GOD how we laugh

I think
maybe she was made just for me

And it's right

you know, how she's so damned kinky
that she'll masturbate for hours like a mad fool
while she lets me watch her
until her leg does that little seizure thing
and she starts to pray, "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!"

Yeah,
I'm sure you could do that
but would you do it for me
or just

for you?

So
bye bye bitchy pooh...
I'd much rather be with my real girl.

That's where all the poetry is anyways.