Friday, June 09, 2006

Summertime and the livin is easy

Long hours was the labor spent
by the Basedow on the removing
of hair from the sleek and slender torso.
Shaving with straight edged razor,
long clean and careful strokes
with well-honed love-blade

The man cry from one day's traic
slip that sent the blade deep
into unscathed flesh and rent
the nip from the very honed pec
did shake the walls of the
very land that Basedow called home.

Walk he did down dusty path
in a great and mighty rage and
all did run from his wroth for fear
of a fel blow from the hammer-handed
meat fist of the six minute man.

Unquenced his anger from the death
of friend and foe alike when there
in the middle of a village road
stands yon horse face lass of some
undetermined age and a visage of
stone and a gleaming heart of solid
gold and she spake, rage not, Basedow
but follow my path of compassion
or watch your heart rot into the worms
of putried putrescense.

Whom are you, asks Basedow and runs to
break her into one thousand tiny pieces
and as they grapple he finds her lean
bone strong and wirey and realizes the
horse face was not mere show but she was
in fact, part horse. I am Coulter
the Compassionate she panted and on they
wrestled into weeks and years but never
as a sexual way would wrestle for he
was allegedly gay and she allegedly as
the very fish of the sea, cold with deep

After besting her, as men are to do unto
the women who shew wisdom unto them they
became friends as the very brokebacks but
not exactly like that as before I told you
he was gay and did not touch the flesh of
women, exspeshelly the cold ones and she
showed him to love others and he did learn
and the loss of the nipple became a badge
of the very courage and love of mankind
and he raged no more.