The First Time

The room was green,
the smell of incense
covered my hands,
which were holding
a nudie magazine.

I stole it.

From a dumpster.

There was mold
on the pages,
and women,
naked and real,
or paper,
exposing their most precious
parts
to me.

I worked at it,
sweat began to appear,
I worked and worked,
until,
I felt
very
strange.

I felt like I was
dying,
like my soul was
elevating.

Pools of white
shot out
of my floating
wiener
and mixed in
with the mold.

I was finally
at peace.

Then,
reality
struck.

My mom called out for me.

Dinner was ready.

I didn't even know
how to clean up
the mess.