Don’t Call Me a Dick
Don’t call me a dick,
a dick is the most beautiful thing in the world,
an inflatable miracle
a forever jumping whale,
the softest hardness,
a shot of he-roin,
sometimes a vulnerable caterpillar,
or a sleeping mole,
sometimes a volcano spitting cloudy emotions,
your very own milky way generator,
or even that mythical eleventh finger
that knows exactly how to tickle loving feelings.
Don’t call anyone a dick,
dicks are God, worship them.
Don’t call me a cunt,
a cunt is the first wonder of the universe,
a big bang of tenderness, a primordial embrace,
a black star that sucks all the Cold and the Sad
in this Mans’ world
and squirts back geysers of forgiveness.
A cunt is the ultimate « yes »
it has no thorns, no teeth,
When it is happy… it cries,
and its tears have the sweet taste of Grace.
If divine had a visage,
it would be a cunt,
and its glorious wholeness would spit in Freud’s face,
’cause without cunts you’d just be an asshole lost in the wind.
Don’t call me an asshole,
an asshole is the alpha and the omega of pleasure,
a surprise-kiss, an unexpected wink,
a modest tiny door to over the rainbow.
Knock knock… it blushes,
and a passage opens tenderly,
to offer a glimpse of la vie en rose.
Its slow glowing dilatation
is a delightful remembrance of our animal condition…
aren’t we just wonderful worms,
extraordinary shit machines?
Timid roses, azaleas, wilted violets or sakuras,
the assholes bloom for me and you.
Cherish them as your Pantheon,
and the most precious of all compliments.