Sunday, October 22, 2006

Now's the Time: A Balls in Flight Oddysee

For those who
pro-
nounce flight
as
"flig-"

it"

I have a simple command

4

U.

Now's the Time
Now's the Time
Now's the Time
Now's the Time

to suck the salt out of my balls.

Thank

you.

Friday, October 06, 2006

I Was Your Child

I was your child

and you have forgotten me

Haven't you?

Left and abandoned
you

created
me

and yet you've never given
me

a second thought, have
you?

Once, I was your shining light
Once, I was your shofar
Once, I was your comfort food
Once, I was your port
Once, I was yours.

Once, I was yours.

And now, I am abandoned
while you
take your
frustrations

elsewhere.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

I've Had a Sex Change Operation (this is not one of my fruity poems this time)

Monday, July 17, 2006

The Golden Age of My Balls

I feel that somehow we've gotten away from what made my poetry so popular. It's back to basics. Back... to The Golden Age of My Balls.

When trouble slobbers
at your
door

and the tomatoe juice sings
its red,
red
praises

alloverthefront
of your
really,
really comfortable
sweater;

note that your balls

yes,

YOUR balls

are in flight.

Heed not the call
of other peoples's balls

when they say...

"You're dick is so small
you
probably
pee on your balls..."

take not offense.

They are merely
jealous
of the size of your balls

and wish
for
adventure.

These days
are the
GOLDEN AGE OF YOUR BALLS.

Cherish these days
as you
would
a
full glass
of
red, red
buttery
wine.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Balls, Inflated

(naked, too, an old queen with
green, blue, yellow, red paints
kneels behind my anus...

he wears
Nike Air-Jordans
with black socks and
that is all
and
he
holds a paint-brush and i

am now
covered
with peace-symbols)

While I

waited for the paint to dry

on my saline injected
super-sized
freshly shaved
cantaloupe big
scrotum...

I thought
kcab

to my college years.

I was so full of

promise,

then.

Monday, May 22, 2006

Slip

A

fart slipped.

Like a cloud
o'er Midwestern crops

it

enveloped
the
Chicago Hilton
elevator.

My victims

scrambled like eggs

crying
clawing
shoving
punching

each-other

desperate to open the ele-
vator doors.

This, cloud
filled their nostrils

exasperated their senses.

This

colon created chaos
lept like a wounded lion
toward
the hunter.

I
stood
stoic,
platonic,

and without a trace of remorse.

Like a sweet Spring morn'

the cloud I left
left
a
faint
wet
dew

in my boxer-briefs.

Monday, May 15, 2006

You Put the "Fun" in Erectile DysFUNction

suck

suck

suck on my balls.



I do

not mean this

metaphorically.