A poem of 'jolly Nosferatu'
is the call you gave to me
Well, I'm called to squat too -
to shit, or take a pee
Poems are not seminal spasms,
not a fucking exercise.
They should be like orgasms
that start between your thighs
roiling guts and cooking brain,
pleasure through and through,
searing knives of almost-pain,
ejaculating goo,
jangled nerve sensations
in a fading afterglow.
Not just masturbation,
or a cheap and hollow blow.
So fuck the Nosferatu
and the tithe this poem collects.
All you get is a cheap screw,
just pointless, trashy sex.