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Three Scatological Sonnets
ANIMALS ONCE SPEWED SEMEN
Animals once spewed seman as they ran,
Their organs streaked with blood and excrement.
Our fathers pouched their members out, and spent
Long hours contriving to display their span.The medieval woman, saint or whore,
Asked for a gallant with a proud display;
Even Kleber, to look at this pants (they
Lie, perhaps, somewhat), had resource, and more.
Man and the proudest mammals have one source;
Their giant cocks and ours are both the same...
And yet a sterile hour now sounds; the horse
And roaring bull have covered up their flame;
No one dares undo his gential force
In those wood where sex was once a children's game... |
OUR ASSHOLES ARE DIFFERENT
Our assholes are different from theirs. I used to watch
Young men let down their pants behind some tree,
And in those happy floods that youth set free
I watched they architecture of our crotch.Quite firm, in many cases pale, it owes
Its form to muscles, and wickerwork
Of hairs; for girls, the most enchanting lurk
In a dark crack where tufted satin grows.
The touching and wonderful innocence
Of painted cherubs on a Baroque shrine
Is recalled in that cheek a dimple indents...
Oh! If only we were naked now, and free
To watch our protruding parts align;
To whisper — both of us — in ecstasy! |
HIDDEN AND WRINKLED
Hidden and wrinkled like a budding violet
It breathes, gently worn out, in a tangled vine
(Still damp with love), on the soft incline
Of white buttocks to rim of the pit.Thin streams like rivers of milk; innocent
Tears, shed beneath hot breath that drives them down
Across small clots of rich soil, reddish brown,
Where they lose themselves in the dark descent...
My mouth always dribbles with its coupling force;
My soul, jealous of the body's intercourse,
Makes it tearful, wild necessity.
Ecstatic olive branch, the flute one blows,
The tube where heavenly praline flows,
Promised Land in sticky femininity. |
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