Buns

Buns like butter rolls,
buns like rosy hillocks,
a weltering of buns,
a plethora of buttocks,
asses, sagging, skimpy,
sumptuous. Asses
like the fundaments
of civil discourse,
asses as a smirky cheer.
Blubbered butt cheeks
flexing for propulsion,
jiggling
to the collisions of a tryst,
salty-bakers, derrieres,
happy honeyed haunches
twinkling on the way to love,
to commerce, on the way


to worship. Give praise
to these mostly speechless prophets
of largess, these twinned,
these mooncalf, testaments,
these meaty truths,
these toothsome tubby tushes
that serve us
as our solemn,
as our certain
and unsullied
seats of reason.

return to table of contents
  Home Contributors Past Issues Favorites   Links  Guidelines About Us