I wish I had a huge cock
Something to split the crotch of the world
While death jerked me off
I’d name my penis, “Burps.”
“Easy Burps” I’d say
Then I’d do all the porno
The women would make a bug-eyed squirm
And the men would wiggle in doubt
I’d love the life
Lips to ass, all the way home
Fucking pianos until they went out of tune
No… I wish I was good with numbers
Math and shit
Jizzing integers on the world
I’d solve equations-quadratical, radical
Man would I bust ‘em in half
Then it would all be a buttered spud
Me and the numbers-counting the blessings
Because you sure as hell can’t count on people
Instead, it’s all words
My words-the fucks and shits of the day
When the screws are put to you
That much tighter
My words are all the junk I eat
Turned to fat
And heart attacks
And dementia
My words are the ever ready epitaph:
Here lies all the meat
He was gravy in life
And now, all the words he has left
Are carved upon this rock