Chilling in Barberitos,
enjoying an ice cold Tecate with lime,
philosophical questions came to mind.
That ages old conundrum vexed me so.
If the creator had not meant
for humans to eat pussy,
then why was it created
to look like a taco?
I drank another Tecate
and ate another lime,
followed by a Margarita,
actually it was more like four.
My answer was to explore
my thoughts in an ode.
These words I write to you,
the ever alluring Pink Taco.
You are the tequila of my libido
wrapped in your juicy plump tortilla,
you are the salsa of my love.
Your passion fiesta tempts me
with steamy desire.
Like a sizzling love tamale
you tease my carnal cravings.
Around you I cannot think.
You are the mescal of my mind.
My brain turns to guacamole
and thoughts are only lusts.
I only want to taste you
and do the horizontal tango.
I cannot live without you,
I need to taste some Pink Taco.
Copyright ©2014 Buz Bono. All Rights Reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author, Buz Bono.
enjoying an ice cold Tecate with lime,
philosophical questions came to mind.
That ages old conundrum vexed me so.
If the creator had not meant
for humans to eat pussy,
then why was it created
to look like a taco?
I drank another Tecate
and ate another lime,
followed by a Margarita,
actually it was more like four.
My answer was to explore
my thoughts in an ode.
These words I write to you,
the ever alluring Pink Taco.
You are the tequila of my libido
wrapped in your juicy plump tortilla,
you are the salsa of my love.
Your passion fiesta tempts me
with steamy desire.
Like a sizzling love tamale
you tease my carnal cravings.
Around you I cannot think.
You are the mescal of my mind.
My brain turns to guacamole
and thoughts are only lusts.
I only want to taste you
and do the horizontal tango.
I cannot live without you,
I need to taste some Pink Taco.
Copyright ©2014 Buz Bono. All Rights Reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author, Buz Bono.
