Cunny poem

Someones dream That was better than mine Moved up the queue And bypassed the line

A pyramid raised Of imported brick His heart is established Four chambers grow rich

How to dilute God? And with what substance? There is but one substance And that substance is God

My shorter leg carries The weight of the right My carriage, my cage My exported light

The Heroes Tunnel I can smell to the left The mystery of Godliness It was found in the flesh

The secret service In their secret cars Draw figure eights And morning stars

The laughing head The price to pay One piece of silver One happy day

She who swims in silence is circling the car That rode on water Like Jesus and died in the middle like Paul

Single-eyed is reading The surface for a star Blinding as the welding arc Combusting from the fall

Described in many stories Promised in many songs The shadow with the lions mane The righter of all wrongs

A friend of many names, and none Returned to sit upon his throne The pretenders swallowed up The bitter king disowned

Paul Berzerk and Batshit Paul She comprehends them all Whatever presentation She understands the thing as Paul

She who gladly takes the spear tip She who laughing takes the sword She who rolling shows her belly and offers pallid breast forward

The precious traveler comes And blinks the secret code Transmitting from his station To a leopard in the snow

Cunny Poem Vol. 2 is now available at Printed Matter in NYC.