You are a pee that must needs be
like hostile erections
in clumsy nightfalls
you are a tit that should be admired
like the Taj Mahal we never ever
visited during our years
up and down north
your tits are the peaks
of crescent waterfalls
the water rising as if in a
you know what
yeah! crescendo, and falling!
to make wet
your skimpy blouse
and paint your large,
throbbing areola
the hammerheads standing up
from a bleak oblivion of
mediocrity and
offering suckles
seas, splash! and
the ants go
rushing by