DO NOT IGNORE THISThis pussy has been sent to you. This pussy has been aroundthe world seven times. You will receive luck within six days of receivingthis pussy. You will forget all suffering. But always you must rememberone thing, the pussy. Alexander Zajak received this pussy in 1953. Whereis this pussy from? He asked his secretary. But she didn't recognizeit. A few days later, his office worker, Constantine Diaz, found the pussyand took her home with him. After a single luscious dusk, he promptly abandonedher. This is no joke. Both Augustine and his office worker languished.While crossing Main Street, they were flattened by a speeding bulldozer.Divine punishment. Please be forewarned. This pussy has toured the world.She has opened like a parachute and sailed from flaming planes. She hasmanifested plagues of locusts in paradise. This pussy can bring palpitationsand perils. Sometimes men look so small to the pussy (pardon her manners),she swallows them whole. Some are little more than spice on her breath.It's true, my love. You must not overlook the truth. This pussy has beensent to you. She is empty now. As empty as a sidewalk in a coastal cityof Japan after the tsunami. Nothing can be done about it. Faith has noprice. The pussy must never be set aside. Monsieur Denis de Rhodes receivedher in 1973. He, too, left her alone while swimming in the sea. She slippedhis mind and floated like a jellyfish to distant shores. Denis's children,Veronique and Bernard, were never allowed outside for recess. One day hiswife, Madame de Rhodes, who knew nothing of the pussy, beseeched her spousefor help and advice before noticing that he had dried up in his sleep.Poetic justice. For three years the de Rhodes lived on seaweed and snailsin a cave on the beach. They grew hair all over their limbs and torsosand vanished with a wandering tribe of lusty sea apes. This pussy speaksfew words. She can tell each insect wing from the wind and every shredof cloud from the horizon. She is in love with celestial things and inhumandeeds. She can devour the pit of any man, no matter if it's true that hebe the rottenest little plum. Faith has no half-life. Nevertheless, thepussy feels alone in the rain and laundromats, there where Robert Muzerickleft her one leaf-blown dusk in late August. Robert still dwells in theabyss as a shadow of a shadow of himself. He left all his clothes and thepussy on eternal spin. The constable found him naked and babbling in thegutter on some island off the coast of Sudan, his cock bobbing like a conductor'sbaton. The pussy fears that you, too, will leave her behind. Perhaps youalready have. You have forgotten her for reasons all your own. You whowere once as happy as a beetle in the sun. Or as a crooning tree frog afterthe deluge. As an ant atop a hot sticky bun. Can you spare a few crumbs? Tonight the moon is almost full. Listen to the stars roaming the streets.Enchanted by the moon, they will always sleepwalk while humming the blues.As you did, once, my love, yes, you, once upon a time, upon a pussy. Tellme, are you dreaming of her much? I fear not. As always the pussyhas no choice. Too soon she will be erasing you, too, from the face ofthe earth and outer space. Alas. She who had hoped for so much more fromyou than the rest. This could be your last chance. Though I admit, it mightalready be but a dirge.
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Chapbook Selections From Web Del Sol