N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 0 7
The monk couldn’t believe his ears
when he heard a girlcomecry.
The nun couldn’t believe her eyes
the first time she saw a youth ejaculate.
The priest couldn’t believe his nose
when he smelled the altar-boy’s rear-end.
The youngman couldn’t believe his tongue
boycome tasted so great.
The youngwoman couldn’t believe her clit
cunnilingus could feel so great.
The college boy couldn’t believe his cock
fellatio felt better than fucking.
The college girl couldn’t believe her tits
just having her nipples licked and sucked
could make her come repeatedly.
Young pigs couldn’t believe their balls
a quart of come spurted out when they ejaculated.
Young elephants couldn’t believe their balls
a gallon of sperm splurted out when they ejaculated.
The minister couldn’t believe his gluteus maximus
buttfucking could feel so spiritual.
The butt couldn’t believe its turds
that they had buttocks
and shat flowers.
The skeleton couldn’t believe its bones
there was a being outside it attached to it called a person.
The rabbi couldn’t believe his Talmud
a girl’s naked armpits proved the existence of
God more than all theologians put together.
The atheist couldn’t believe his disbelief
when he realized after death
he was immortal.
The Pope couldn’t believe his infallibility
that after he died
God and Christ didn’t exist
but immortality did.
Christians couldn’t believe their Bibles
Jesus was a psychedelic mushroom.
Muslims couldn’t believe their Korans
Muhammad was a psychedelic mushroom.
Buddhists couldn’t believe their sitting meditation
no Bo Tree had to sit under a Buddha to be enlightened.
The Earth couldn’t believe its Universe
that Love existed before all
Religions, Bibles, Gods, Saviors put together
on zillions of planets before this one.
The atoms in a three-pound human brain
couldn’t believe their electrons and nuclei
that if the empty space between them were removed
the human brain that remained
would be lighter than a feather.
The most prestigious poetry magazines in our Solar System
couldn’t believe their editorial professionalism
Death accepts every corpse submitted to it,
Death rejects no one’s corpse acknowledges every corpse
sends no one’s corpse back as unpublishable
saying it doesn’t fit our present needs
good luck placing it elsewhere.
Death not only publishes every corpse
but also publishes it in translation.
For Death every corpse is like
winning the Lottery,
For Death every corpse
is a Thanksgiving Turkey.
Meanwhile Spring doesn’t need to believe anything
to return every year after year
And the sky in the eye of a child
is blue beyond belief.