Shag Carpet WHY?

Sick on the brink of a new lurk for kicks
A true new low for the old pone to fix
Mood hyped, teen night, over at the roller rink
Rehearsing slow lewd winks, nude, at the men's room sink, ya'll
Evil, pink, small, lesser, surly, and lurid
Open girlies for leisure, never not where the youth is
Son, the putrid things I've done for purely my pleasure?
It's horrid
Surely at 30-plus it must seem untoward
Dirty stories untold
Mass nasty sex in the dorms
Don't ask me when I was born
Less known is best come morn'
Yes, you'd never guess, but in this form I'm a mess
And with this heavy chest I can't rest

What's your name?

So I put the porn in a poem to confess and atone
I address the past and ask why I'm alone
In a torn tone I preach peace and poor from the pulpit
But at home, Jack Kennedy sheaths and shag carpet
Purchased parkas from Marshalls at ridiculous markups
Out at farmer's markets and high thread count garments
And on FourSquare this morning, like an old yoga yuppie
I checked in at Krogers in a gold pullover toga like "fuck it"