I call him Richard Millhouse Nixon, because he thinks he is the president. When I was a younger man, he did my thinking (got me into a lot of trouble). She calls him Tricky Dick. Some times she calls him Dick Cheney, I guess to let me and him know that, at best, he can only be the vice president. She does my thinking for me now.
You know who I'm talking about. I tell her he likes it when she gives him a kiss, sometimes she likes to give him a bite. I moan and tell her to speak softly into the microphone. She makes him feel better by calling him Little Richard, and talking to him with a breathy voice. Not because he is small, but because she is a nice girl and she knows how to drive a stick.
The rain gently, tenderly kisses my upturned face and lips I taste translucent beads of nature's bliss upon my tongue They dance upon my arms and prance in silver liquid streams Down breasts, and legs without alarm and know no private places I smile... and for a while I am transfixed as thunder growls And lightning startles me as it plays wildly in the darkness of day I stand bravely as the cold wet chill attacks my back and face the storm Then head into the howling furious wind, searching angry skies once again For the rainbow at the end of Heaven's fury; I hurry along with a song I'll soon be warm and dry and home again to ponder where I've been... GLO