Friday, May 28, 2010


One day things will just get too sexy,
Dildos in high offices and in shrines,
Christs nailed to vibrators across the land,
Fake tit furniture, places of rest
In the crevices of breasts,
Cars and commutes fueled on lube,
Workers sliding all down to work
Through the tightest of streets and alleys,
Muff diving taken for a vacation,
And mustache rides giving all amusement.

After decades of skipping to Gomorrah,
Our cocks will break off from use
And our slits will collapse and wave
To everyone in the wind,
We will have nightmares of strap-ons
That we cannot handle or thrust,
Priapus will laugh at us from the sides
And we will run through our homes
Where all edges are worn down,
Where every room will have a bed,
Looking for someplace to eat without
Having to use a bare back from an orgy
As a table to dine upon.

One day we’ll turn to monk’s rags
And take up the quiet habits of nuns,
One day we will go back to being screwed
The old fashioned way,
With our clothes on and standing in line
At the bank and ballot box.

by Ben Nardolilli

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