Don't Go Nuts for your Dough, Nuts(!)

Updated: Oct 5, 2020

"Mmmmmm…doughnuts." — Homer Simpson

Our contribution today comes from a dear friend, Grace Wilson, and is a true joy to behold. Please take a moment to engage...


Donut is one of those poems that are the written equivalent of an ear worm. I remember my friend reading this to me, in a bar, both of us solidly drunk. When he told me he had been challenged to write an erotic poem about an intimate object I had to hear it, if only for the purpose of roasting him half to death. Instead, I was surprised to find out I was now sexually attracted to donuts (just kidding). I elected to send this the boy I have a crush on as part of the series of poetry postcards I write him while he is at training. Hopefully he, along with this community, can enjoy a slightly racy but quite well written piece. Bon appétit!


I walk by innocently enough

to find the beauty

sitting there alone.

As if Sartre slammed me:


I could say nothing of my surroundings;

it was only us.

Mystique abounds,

my eyes held choiceless

to the warm curves,

glistening still.

My lips expand,

my tongue swells ready,

and my eyes start to stutter.

I will hold you

and when you’re gone

I’ll suck what’s left

on my hands.


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