Red Hot Rita walks the streets
Spouting sonnets by John Keats,
Quoting Elliot, quoting Larkin,
While booking all her johns for parking.
Red Hot Rita giving blow-jobs
To all the little country Joe-Bobs,
Giving change for parking meters,
Swallowing semen by the litres.
Red Hot Rita, meter maid,
Not averse to getting laid,
Tits like jellies, skin like silk,
Getting sprayed in sticky milk.
Oh Rita, Rita, Goth Lolita,
Come and crank my parking meter,
Read me poems from your book,
Race my heart with just a look.
Read to me of Alfred Prufrock,
While you lift your pretty blue smock,
Quote the odes on Grecian urns
While my passion quickly burns.
Stop my vehicle, protest, picket,
Write me out a parking ticket,
Frisk me, cheat me, like a whore,
Then kiss me at your blue front door.
Rita, Rita, serial cheater,
Tie me to your parking meter.
Copyright © Max Scratchmann. All Rights Reserved