When I was first asked by the good people of RSVP Erotica to write a poem to fight Beast Cancer I was admittedly confused. This was much like when I shaved my hair, which at the time was all the way down my back - and I was asked to donate the hair to fight cancer. How could my hair fight cancer? I wondered, but hey, if it's for Science....Similarly, if my writing a poem will defeat Breast Cancer....I'm on it.
I tried for a few days to write this elegant poem that conveyed all my deeply held feelings about breasts (of which there are many), but I couldn't get the right feel for the situation. I kept pinching and pulling my words, tweaking them, massaging them, sometimes chewing on them in vain hopes of getting it just right. It was so hard! I got those words to stand up at attention, like little top hats, but no matter how much I molded, I couldn't get it the way I wanted.
In a text conversation with my friend Jacquelin I jokingly dashed off a few lines, and she wrote back, "This is good! You should use this!." Yeah, I countered, but it's not epic. It's not the Peer Gynt of Pecs I was hoping for. "It's just like you say in the poem," Jacquelin argued. "When it comes to boobies, lots of different types will work just fine." Yeah, I guess she's right. So, without further ado, I present my first (and hopefully not last) poem to fight Breast Cancer. I'm not sure if you're supposed to just slather this poem directly on them or what....but I'm sure it can't hurt. -Hyperion
I Like 'em
I like 'em small (around six-ouncy).
I like 'em firm, I like 'em floppy,
I like 'em neat, I like 'em sloppy.
I like 'em peach-pink, I like 'em dark-cola,
I like 'em covered with areolae.
I like 'em pushed up, or swinging easy,
I like 'em curved sharp, or big as Weezy.
I like 'em tear-shaped, or nicely rounded,
I like 'em delicate, or when they're pounded.
I like 'em on virgins, I like 'em on whores,
I like every pair, but mostly yours!
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