when hecate’s your nurse

when i was young and dumb and full of cum

i marched my own cadence, i beat my own drum

now i’m old and cold and not nearly as bold

and the pride of my soul has long since been sold

and the place where i kept it is covered with mold

i was, then i wasn’t, but will be again

as is the folly and fate and the future of men

they leap from a pussy full grown dressed in rags

they stagger with drink and swagger their brags

till toe-tagged and trepanned they curl up in black bags

my life is no different than those gone before

i saw mother’s face in the eyes of a whore

then wooed her and screwed her but left her no coin

for the course that she set from the day i was born

was a thrust and a fevre to return to her loins

you think me a loony, insane in the brain

for saying the things left unsaid by most men

but a swine in his silence eats at the same trough

and i am a poet and i’m from the south

where capote was famous for using his mouth

so dress me in garlands of garlic and sage

throw me in a hole at the end of my age

for dying is easy and living is worse

and a limo foreshadows the back of a hearse

and her cold tits are tasty when hecate’s your nurse