Mr. Howard : Adult Poetry

Mr. G. Howard

By: Julia L. Clark

Hey Mr. Howard.

How are you doing my love?

Ooh Mr. Daddy Howard

I am fresh out the shower

Leaving you a voice message

Did you like how I cried for you?

I will presume that position

Of being your bitch

I am itching so scratch my heat

Boy.

Damn your arresting me with your eyes

I can’t resist your on hand contact

Playing jazz tunes like a mid day afternoon.

Damn it’s been a week do you miss your freak.

I want to buss something so wet on your bedroom sheets

Mr. Big Daddy G clear your desk off

And make me your business

Better yet roll up your sleeves

Because your about to get right down to the hard core of shit

And fuck Mrs. J Howard your little Hypnotic Bitch

You mutha fucka don’t you ever run from me

Because I chase dick

Damn

Those words

That square shit

Makes me moan

You’re a corporate nigga and I am a ghetto bitch.

Ooh Daddy Darell you open your mouth and sell

To my clit some mad head game

Your tongue of hall a fame is only for my thang

Pull out your brain and let me slip you a Mickey

Through my hmmm…

Sticky icky

Saliva.

Bust free milk in my mouth of bottles

Your sweating for me

Is this your glass tears of elusive tear drops?

Ooh Daddy Gerry Howard

Come back to play with me in our room of heated

G- Spots.