froggy all hellion like
murmurs underneath the weather
the water wrung out from the drought
"you can't catch anymore fish
with such a deep voice"
how do i do that ?...?
"jingle jangle down to the bathhouse"
empty minus the few desperate sex addicts
a couple of hedgehogs in their late dream dead twenties
bowling over their comparisons to Sonic with male intercourse
"the steam will shrivel your testicles up until you could pluck them off your body, like tearing a berry of the vine"
big the cat sluggish to the bathhouse
boards creaking stone cracking with thunderous gait
a hedgehog moaning from the lower dens of an empty pool of water
whispering "holy hell..." to himself, surrounded by santorum,
no steam here . . . . .
froggy jumps down from big's shoulder
fires his tongue at a few passing flies
"i do this for everyone."
the webbed arm holds them
warm and loose, like grapefruit
cords hanging
so much sperm will
froggy ? ! ! ! ! ! !
the hedgehog weakly climbs out
ribs peeking from the skin
his member still retracting
he watches some loner cat yank and squeeze his balls
until the pop, two decent firecrackers, ripping Velcro skin
blood and milk, creation and nurturing spilling toward a center drain
the hedgehog grabs what is left of his libido, and tells it a comeback story,
one about the return of his god