Cool air is rustling through the pages
The light is growing dim
Cheese Turd and Erdy have closed their chapter
Of the pack, they say, “Fuck them!”
They stroll slowly through the library halls
A glance to books stacked, a set
Perusing through MUG’s and Vagina Dentata’s new “pages”
The wettened sole drenched with regret.
The titles themselves tell the tale
Buck Fucka’s “Park Strangers and You”
Cockamole’s “Sticking Together,”
My Little Porno’s “BD,MS I and II”
Pause for a second at the corner
Where Just Ben’s reads “Just Ben”
Sometimes one has to dig even deeper
To get past the smell of skunked men.
Though the bindings of all look fair and fresh
A wrinkle in some appears
Millimeter Peter, Brown Eye, Rape and Spillage
Yellowed pages show added years.
At last we come to our bookends
Which to our untitled hare we say,
A geologist in San Francisco, Just Erdy?
Sodomentary Cock, you’ll stay.
Another volume finally finished
Hand Pump packs the “book” van
I put the final electronic flourish
On the fabled trail we ran.