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Canto 7
by Wolf Larsen
Ho! In the orient when the infectious light
Lifts up all his syphilis roaring heads, each with dozens of eyes
Giving homage to all the great pornographic Poets now appearing before our sight in robes of magical words,
Serving wine with all the vaginas & penises of his sinful religion;
And having climb'd the steep up-up-up heavenly 100 story penises,
Resembling strong tidal waves of hysteria in his middle age,
yet drooling brains adore his beautiful walls still,
Attending on his glorious pilgrimage to hell;
But when from highest waterfalls of orgasms, with ecstatic diseases,
Like hungry anger, he reels from day to day,
The eyes, dead but alive, now walking out of his face are
From his excited penis dreams dripping all over thousands of galaxies:
So run! Run like thousands of running noons rolling East!
Worship sin! And beget an illegitimate son!
Copyright 2012 by Wolf Larsen
Sonnet VII
by William Shakespeare
Lo! in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill, 5
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
Attending on his golden pilgrimage;
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day, 10
The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are
From his low tract and look another way:
So thou, thyself out-going in thy noon,
Unlook'd on diest, unless thou get a son. 14
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