Canto 8
by Wolf Larsen
Music gives birth to a child, and the music dies sadly?
All the wars of joy & delight for war profiteers, the bombs exploding in air.
And why must we labor for the bourgeoisie, receiving only poverty in return?
While the faithful receive God's piss raining down on them on Sunday.
And the well-tuned noise of clashing armies, underneath the sky
Of sun & moon married, do offend the magical toaster ovens,
They do but sweetly make Easter Bunny train pornography, which confounds
The miLe-loNg-moviNg-paRts of a single phrase of poetry,
Oh the dong-ding-pussy-pies, sweet husband-swapping goddess to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual offering,
The child resembling not husband but happy mother & beautiful stranger
Put all this craziness in the blender as one, one pleasing schiZophreniC note to sing:
Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,
Sings to thee: ‘I'm as single as a lonely pensioner with only bread to eat.’
Copyright 2012 by Wolf Larsen


Sonnet VIII
by William Shakespeare
Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
Why lovest thou that which thou receivest not gladly,
Or else receivest with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds, 5
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering, 10
Resembling sire and child and happy mother
Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: 'thou single wilt prove none.' 14