Pornographic Pulchritude

Pornographic Pulchritude                                September 15, 2009

I seem to recall that everything before now

Was always something that was planned.

However, my time here with you is,

Suffice to say, like a fart in the whirlwind.

Just look us - naked as two hairless Siameses'

Engaging in an act of pornographic pulchritude.

Pulchritude? Isn't that something that 

When it comes to sex, that down South,

They see it as sinful, a bane to society at large?

And how do these white cloth religious demagogues

Make babies? Perhaps they are sinners after all.

But why make a beautiful event not so before it commences?

Why, I'm sitting here with my cock inside you,

And there's nothing remotely insidious about it

Other than I've got this enormous shit-eating grin.

This is art, and I'm the artist with a phallus for a paint brush.

This is so primal that I think we fail to recognize the fact

That each of us has a name, an identity.

But fuck that, now. Fuck that. We don't really need names.

We should just pretend we're a couple of baboons

Fornicating, not for the purpose of producing hell'yuns, no,

But to just enjoy one another's company.

You get to see my bare ass and that sort of thing.

And while we spend the next few moments waiting for bombastic pleasure,

We'll just play nature's accordion,

Swinging along the totum pole, along a soak and wet swamp,

Almost as if it were inside the cave.

Alas, the oil is coming from a ground deep-rooted 

From years of misuse from none-use.

Frustrations from those years instantaneous cease,

And the shit-eating grin, once an apparent mockery of the moral code,

Dies away into a sunset with a sigh.