James St. John | CC BY 2.0

Ammon

Clustered tight
around those teats
in sheer seethe,
the glutinous mass swarms
in demon-driven
pursuit of pleasure,
societal semen a-spurt.
It sucks,
our nether end does.
Measure it —
the squabbling
and success stories
sordid,
the incessant squaring off
and coupling —
by the miasmal
spew of batshit —
Only the fumes
rise, seeding
the surfeit, falling
fat in the fire.

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