Put on your million-dollar suit
and drive the fly to the hospital,
then a quick lunch of vassals and serfs
with a simple glass of kerosene.
Thus nourished, dive into the liquidity
of bundled mortgages on homes
for howitzers and seashells
gathered on a recent trip to Mars.
Gravity is super strong today
Top up your tires with androgen
extracted from the piss of mares;
expect some aching from your balls.
I’ll pick up ebony and marzipan
for the black-and-white block party.
Wear your Lycra — oh yes please —
It shows your yolk sac to perfection.
Posted in Poetry