OLD GOAT REAFFIRMS

about women there is no doubt…I love their fragrances…their smooth skins bereft of blemish…their lips are like nets dragging the poor fish in…the honeyed skin dragging the tongue down the taut belly to the hot dark swamps of their crotches where life and death merge in one flush moment of eternal flux…

oh even the least of them will tempt man to his doom and away from every imperative to rejoin the stars…but oh the stars with which he must reunite cannot be attained without the hot bed of the female flesh… the field of play where love and death join in one metempiric spasm of ecstasy…

oh the death that brings life…oh the joy that passeth beyond understanding….







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