Hot Ball Conga

HOT BALL CONGA

Wet girls huddle under a thick spruce

Squeals and screams

Summer soaker cloud burst

Streams of mascara 

Hair washed together

Clothing sticking to every body

July

Stay wet girls

Don't let that hot bald bone

Dry you 

Fry you

Evaporate into the sky you

Emerse yourselves in 

Bodies of water

Lakes, pools

Oceans, bubble baths

Keep the boys thirsty

For your moisture

Beach the boys

Like whales

With your bikinis

Strand them in the sand

Make them understand

The wet wild nature child

Who lightning tickles

And thunder claps

With each smack

Of your lips

Don Arrup

Saitre1

SUMMER CLOCK

The serious business of fun

Pursued for its own sake

By boys who worship the Sun

And open space

In full command of agenda

Big boys propose

And hotly debate

Little boys craving inclusion

Follow arguments

And weigh their fate

They want to be big boys

Big boys want to be men

And men just want to be

Boys again

Days without hours

Only sunrise and set

Hold off September

Back to school again

Don Arrup

Satire1