Friday, January 11, 2008
Book of ReynoldsI had a Poodle named Poo
who always bit my shoes.
So I smashed his head into the wall, hit him with a frying pan,
shook his body until it expired, and sucked up the brain matter
with a straw.
I took a pair of kitchen scissors and opened up his chest,
the Poodle named Poo was full of it; butterfly cocoons.
No wonder he had been acting so crazy.
They were: Hope, Happiness, Family, Love, Light and Life,
and they followed me wherever I went
until the day I encountered a spider with webbed feet who bore the name Bureaucracy.
What a shame, what a pity; engulfed by black leather hugs and poisonous kisses
all my angel helpers perished into air by the aid of formal proceedings.
So full of light, so bright and powerful, I began to wonder where Poo the Poodle had been
to acquire such monumental marvels. I had heard tales of Holy Dogs, Holy Hot Dogs, the Gods embodied in Poodly bricks of atoms and wagging tails.
I set up a sect and commenced my worship of Poo.
Soon we were many, we who devoted our lives to Poo.
Many set out from camp to tell Others of the Miracles of Poo; Divinity embodied.
And many young girls gave blow jobs for better afterlives too.
Forever and a Day we waited,
Forever and a Day we prayed.
Until Eternity we shall sing the praise of Poodle Poo;
The One True God below the Heavens, the butterflies and blow jobs.