Shag Carpet

Sick on the brink of a new lurk for kicks A true new low for the old pone to fix Mood hyped, teen night, over at the roller rink Rehearsing slow lewd winks, nude, at the men's room sink, ya'll Evil, pink, small, lesser, surly, and lurid Open girlies for leisure, never not where the youth is Son, the putrid things I've done for purely my pleasure? It's horrid Surely at 30-plus it must seem untoward Dirty stories untold Mass nasty sex in the dorms Don't ask me when I was born Less known is best come morn' Yes, you'd never guess, but in this form I'm a mess And with this heavy chest I can't rest What's your name? So I put the porn in a poem to confess and atone I address the past and ask why I'm alone In a torn tone I preach peace and poor from the pulpit But at home, Jack Kennedy sheaths and shag carpet Purchased parkas from Marshalls at ridiculous markups Out at farmer's markets and high thread count garments And on FourSquare this morning, like an old yoga yuppie I checked in at Krogers in a gold pullover toga like "fuck it" What's your name? I use the first person cause it sounds more urgent But the truth is I probably knew myself less than you did I'm so lonesome that I'd let you take me out If you looked like my ex-girlfriend or Zooey Deschanel But heed this honey, even if I beg for relations You should try to only keep me as a distant acquaintance Yeah, but I'm too persistent for that to work And what's worse is when you finally fall asleep I'm gonna go through your purse What's your name?