insubstantial, unrealistic underwear.

this poem is not for the faint of heart or those who may be offended by poetry with sexual conent.


insubstantial, unrealistic, underwear
by Liam Ford

i'm so sick of those
ninteen-year-old-girls
you know the ones
who wear short skirts
and push-up bras
tattoo their lover backs
and shave their vaginas
who get shit-faced at bars
who grid with those guys
you know the ones
who walk around
with their collars popped
yet think the whole time
"my prince will come
becuase they watch
too many chick flicks
or were read too many
fairy tailes as a kid
and still think that marriage
always leads to
happily ever after


well, nineteen-year-old-girls,
one day your prince will come--
all over your pierced belly,
your bra-clad breasts
maybe even your face
if you let him

and maybe you'll enjoy it
if you let yourself
if you're not too afraid
of what your friends'll think

or what he'll think after he's done
becuase true love doesnt
ride a white stallion
true love is inside yourself
its behind your makeup and
your piercings and tattoos
underneath your push-up bra
your insubstantial, unrealistic underwear
its hairy and sweaty
and sticky and gross
it's two morbidly obese people
fucking each others brains out
on the hottest day of the year
in toronto, and its fucking
beautiful