- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Flow of Conches?
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It was so damn hot you'd get sweat from a rock
So damn hot so we went for a walk
On and on to the beat of the drums
On till our feet were raw and our limbs were numb
Till our legs dropped off and we fell on our bums
Till our fingers shed and we crawled with thumbs
At the end was found, though, the promise land
If we'd still had them we'd have shook hands
It was glorious and grand as anything could be
At least, we were told, for we no longer could see
Or even to be able our journey to recount
After all, it's the journey that counts.
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