“The Most Pleasurable Vagina”


Finding a good poem

is like finding

the most pleasurable

vagina in Pittsburgh


Steps will be taken

until shoes are

worn thin

Words will be spoken

upon deaf ears

Miles will be driven

leading you back to

the where you began


Porn on repeat

Fresh out of lotion

Disparity lurking

in the shadows

Candles blowing

out in the wind


After all the anguish


precum and wet dreams

It’ll fall into your lap

like an eager whore

scrounging around

for funds to purchase

the latest iPhone


Open arms and

expired condoms

Hit like a sucker punch

Gratified by the pain

Turning the page

to a stimulating verse

The plot it thickens

Eradication of the

run around game


The words will flow freely

like a moist vagina in action

Left to right up and down

Until the poem is finished

Reaching the climax and

using the pages to clean

up a mess from this

orgasmic moment

That was a long time


“Minimum Wage Slaves”

People are
only as smart
as the policies
they’re endorsing
Nothing makes sense
besides this cash register

The average moron
has no free thoughts
I’m running around
with my pants down
Questioning the integrity
of the so called free market

Capitalism is
out of control
Be a compliment slave
or lose the right
to brag about
your satirical
job title

Stupid name tags
Delusional dreams
of early retirement
I’m laughing out loud
Can I take your order
That’s all you do
Keep taking shit
forego your dignity
Who needs a pension
I need a free refill

The misuse of attitude
in all the wrong places
Consumer abuse
Save it for the
establishment bitch
The only thing
more ridiculous
than your place
of employment
is that ridiculous
work outfit
Thanks come again

© Michael Marrotti
“Andy Warhol’s Old Neighborhood”

My mother’s plan
to live vicariously
through me
Worked like a charm
She named me
after an illustrious
artist of the
renaissance era
Unbeknownst to her
Jinxing me in return
I used to elbow drop
my Nintendo as a kid
And grew up to have
violent episodes
that took little
I think its safe to say
Patience was never
a virtue I possessed
Four years is the
amount of time
it took to finish
the Sistine chapel
I’m rarely ‘re-elected
My ex will attest
And prone to fits
of rage during
rush hour traffic
Maybe living in Andy
Warhols old neighborhood
would be inspiring
Which brings me to
where I’m currently at
Two generations of
failed artists

Michael Marrotti is an author from Pittsburgh using words instead of violence to mitigate the suffering of life in a callous world of redundancy. His primary goal is to help other people. He considers poetry to be a form of philanthropy. When he’s not writing, he’s volunteering at the Light Of Life homeless shelter on a weekly basis. If you appreciate the man’s work, please check out his blog:www.thoughtsofapoeticmind.blogspot.com for his latest poetry and short stories.