Canto 5
by Wolf Larsen
These BO!NG BO!NG hours, that gentle murdering saint born in doom joy!
So worship the lovely pigeon-alien-alarm clocks with their giant phalluses, where every Charles Manson clone doth dwell,
Where the tyrants of morality play with their illustrious ding-dongs,
And in that giant ear the size of Jupiter King Kong the ape does dance:
For never-resting time leads summer on & on & on...
To millions of endless wet dreams floating like clouds above the stars;
Human dreams fading into the morning...
Beauty knocking on the door of ugliness,
Then, where summer's millions of delusions whisper,
A liquid prisoner dancing with all his delusions in walls of glass,
And beauty whispers across the rooftops...
Now we can skip like human daffodils through haPpY-revOlving-dOOrs...
But where do fooper-doopers dip their phallus-beepers? Through tings with winter meeps?
And lips singing with flirty smiles at heavenly-whorehouse-shows; their cocaine heavens fly so sweet!
Copyright 2012 by Wolf Larsen
Sonnet V
by William Shakespeare
Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel:
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter and confounds him there;
Sap cheque'd with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'ersnow'd and bareness every where:
Then, were not summer's distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it nor no remembrance what it was:
But flowers distill'd though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.