Pay me a hundred dollars not to illustrate the recent Charles Wright title, "
Sunlight Bets on the Come." Come on, you can afford it. The alternative is bleak: I will shoot the sunny ejaculate of my art into your eyes, blinding you to better suns forever. So cough it up, elitist hogs, and with the proceeds I will purchase some of this Kollij you all seem to be so fond of!
2 comments:
Anything you do will be an improvement on this tedious knockoff of a poem. Shoot your sunny ejaculates, O Muse, and then demand they print your artwork next time.
I am not here to judge, of course, but a man who acknowledges the mysterious allure of deer asses in his verse is no enemy of mine.
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