Play stupid Reed, crow, come on Play
I soaked you, and dried you
I sucked out the moisture
I blew through some air
But you sound like some weak whistle
Play Reed, just a little?
I've wrapped my lips around you;
I've loosened my lips to let you buzz.
I've tried to hold you firm, not squeeze
But I smile you to silence with lips pressed too tight
Play reed, please play
You'll play a few scales
But your tone just won't stay
You buzz or you beep,
But my songs cannot leap
Play reed I beg you
I sound really bad. Please?
I'll loosen my mouth, my lips
wrap them around you correctly
but only if you can hold a steady tone
Oboe reed, Crow bright and true
You play like this always
Then I'll always love you.
Play high notes, low notes, loud and soft
I love when reeds warm up quick like you
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Oboe Reed Poem (blow job)
"Is this a poem about warming up my oboe reed, or sucking on a different type of wood."
Author's Notes
"I wrote this many years ago and left it in a public place. At the time I was trying to shed my goodie-goodie persona by enlightening my classmates of my inner dirty thoughts. Even the people who didn't understand a reed is a piece of wood attached to a musical instrument were able to enjoy the subtle implication that I enjoy bringing and wetting wood in my mouth. This is around the time I began cultivating my Naughty Librarian persona, which was appreciated verbally if not physically."
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