What indeed is the issue… all this urgency
To provide the world something? Am I Santa Cause?
People’s assholes need comfort. I should give my share
‘Til my role is exhausted, that is if I dare
To be barred from your premises with due applause.
Tear a piece of my life off. It folds easily.
People need to use something to keep that space clean.
What I offer is substance, for all that it’s worth.
My words wipe the loose soil from the folds in the brain.
They need never be looked at. No one can complain
That the brain and the asshole are parts of the earth.
To insist I’m a poet shall remain obscene.
WordPress is my dispenser. It’s here all the time
And I am ever present a source like a cob.
A warm roll like a coaster awaits those who will
Dare to read down to this far. That does take some skill…
Evidently. Most minds and their drains need a swab
Frequently. It’s just one way to deal with the grime.