‘Letter to my Beaver about the earlier affair’

My dear Beaver-

I crossed the road

with my girl’s hands;

she called it,

an act of cowardice.

How could I marry you?

The retort was an obnoxious fart.

I meant, she should get rid

Off me with the fart.

The night the semen

drenched my tadpole

sheets and inundated

the problematic igloo

with agents of lubrication,

I was a real macho.

The following night,

I was the same man.

I should not say,

what happened,

when Eros scratched

her orifice over

a long time.

I turned a namby-pamby,

that couldn’t work out

anything well.

She fought with me

sometimes for being a nihilist,

I consented with the ‘yep’,

as I was a sort of that.

She could not love me

for being the nihilist,

so how can I escape?

Then I thought Larkin,

who once said about,

promising in marriage

to spend half of your money

on another one

for the rest of your life.

Further, promising

not to fuck anyone else.

That is really a crap phenomenon.

I reconciled with that love,

consolidated my maudlin soul.

Escaped with the relent

for a final fuck.

So, that night, girl Wandy

was fled off

with kind pretexts

for a bright future of ours.

I know, you are my

first and my last fantasy.

The rest follow

the chronology of conquests,

as you have your own.

My Beaver, do you get on

with your friends, well?

I will write to you forthwith,

as I find my goddess made of real adobe.