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deepundergroundpoetry.com
How to paint a penis (a nonsensical poem)
When a man is born,
his got two heads.
And at that, two brains.
One independent of him.
The penis,
he thinks for himself.
Say we think with our penis.
Yes! Not all men love to play tablepennis!
But songs are the heart of the storms in our groin.
That the pen is
a surer weapon than the sword.
I say to the penis,
sit down here,
but he walked away
with cocks that were crowing
into dawn's cunt.
I say to my penis,
sit down in the snow,
but girls carried suns in their bum.
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