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.