I’m thinking of mugging
(which may not be smart) ,
that scrumptious pink flower
who lives in that shoe
in the morning wee hour
I’ll be coming for you.
I will show you some fire
it is part of me now
it is called male desire
you will wonder just how
I could feed it to you
do not worry my dear
and just stay in your shoe
take a six-pack of beer
and two beanbags as chairs
with the laces tied shut
we will leave all the cares
outside of our hut
but since this is a poem
and the people have eyes
even some, since we know ’em
would be envious guys
I will stop until later
when I get to the shoe
well, ’til then alligator
I am longing for you.