Bedeviled figurine
Child of Eros
Figurine most obscene
It’s invariably lewd
Slightly crude
But I love it
For it tickles my fancy
From time-to-time
My travels take me
To this mountaintop
Standing erect above the
As I sit there
Amongst the other patrons
I bravely dare a rub
Against the marble statue
And as I do I contemplate
Upon the myth of its origin
Who could have created such a piece?
Not Michel?
Of course not!
This piece is older
Than time itself
Sadly enough
Some think it despicable
But not I
I reckon it glorious
It offers oh, so much more
Than coital arousal
A real teaser and visual stimulus
Whetting all of the senses
This statue of marble or statuette
This Goddess of
Either or
They’re both unclothed
It’s a pity they’ve failed
Mention them before
One half of the Ore’s likeness
Was fashioned into
The essence of a woman
Though not in her traditional sense
From the top of her head
To the sole of her feet
She is bathed in scale-like vaginas
These scale-like swellings
Are like full mouths
Serving as the lid of a pit
Whose well is without end
This pillar or statue
Homage to the Gods
Or forces that be
Is set atop
The highest peak in every milieu
Even Persephone was granted leave
For this sight to behold
Force of life to see
Alas Demeter smiled
Was it then she begged mercy?
Of our immortal Goddess of Fertility?
Now the other half
Of this monument
Tribute to the Gods or Goddesses
Or perhaps to the sexes
Or just sex
The mold is exactly
As you guessed
Modeled in the form of man
One big dick
Though again
Not in the traditional sense
For his half, too
Is covered entirely with little penises
No pun intended
Could this be some sort of tribute
I wondered?
To femininity and masculinity
Well, not just that entirely
The penises in the statue
Just like on a man
Dangle
Until he perks right up
And a cold winds draft gone by
And perk right up they do
Hail attention to the Chief!
Whomever in the hell that might be
I think the chief is the one in charge
So, who in the hell is that?
Tell me!
The penises gawk at the mouths
Of the suction-like vaginas
The mantra they shout exuberantly
“Hooray for pussy!”
The vaginas respond in kind
“And another hoorah for cock!”
The ratio of cock to pussy
Is one-to-one
In a trillion
A penis’ greatest longing
Is to be wrapped like a blanket
In the warmth of a vagina
If not, it will die off
From the cold of frost bite
The vaginas, ever so hungry
Gaze longingly at the penises
With the insatiable desire
To be nourished and fed
So, what is the problem?
You say
Each appears uniquely designed
To fulfill the needs
Of the other
Oh, but there was a grave problem
It was their lifeless form of existence
The mold they had been cast in
Disabled them from flexing or bending
And as is more than
Obviously apparent
This posed quite
An undeniable dilemma
A real pain-in-the-ass
Problem!
For how were they to connect?
Ever so close
And yet forever far away
Before long, they would all
End up dead!
The vaginas of hunger
The penises of cold
Seekers of truth
In those times past the Ancient
Known as the enlightenment
Sat silently and listened reverently
Of the tale of the Spell of Ore
Legend maintains
That one only need
To caress the cast of mass
Genitalia
Quite magically the statue
Will come to life
Ever gracefully they will dance
As they break the mold
In which they have been cast
And alas
They’ll be able to fulfill their task
Eternally upon eternity
Without impediment or harass
For the hunger is never satiated
Nor the cold assuaged
If the seekers turn away
The cast of ore will again
Go astray
Release the fire!
I am that you are
There is no sin
Eternally from within
To bewitched!
Circa 1996
