inside galactic center, so they say
a cluster of black holes is now at play
they give the galaxy its whirling shape
imparting spin to stars that spawned the Ape
and thus we orbit 'round a mighty drain
while sporting giant, useless, heavy brains
but to my mind, 'tis not a drain we see
'tis more an anus, heaving mightily
we go not in; far from! we do go out
the galaxy, an asshole primed to shout
this universe, so vast, so grand and black
a colon shooting us to hell and back!
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Friday, April 28, 2006
cosmic poesy
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2 comments:
the jive, the hand, the mouth it was
a taste, a roar, a tang, because:
its shreik, still there, in air like gas
cast glares, made chairs shake 'round en masse
folks ran, you run, and fun was done
no man, nor can, can shun the stun
of scent so rare, so strong and fast
it takes no time to make yew gasp.
Big Ho, you need to see my poem for April 29th. Our minds run so closely parallel -- yours scatological, mine eschatological.
Jeffery Hodges
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