Ass Poetry

If I return to earth it will be
as a cream coloured silicone
butt plug. And I make no
apology for such a choice.

Some will ask why, not seeing risible
irony in my obtuse reasoning – a
proverbial pain in the ass
epitomised thus in what must
seem an uncompromisable guise.

Rejoice I say, at last we will get to the
seat of it, begin a new and productive
association – one where sitting on your
ass pays great dividends, way out of
whack to energy expended.

I’d get to influence seats of reasoning
through homeopathic ideas infusion,
you’d learn poetry without me
stuffing with your heads.
© 26 February 2008, I. D. Carswell