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THE BRUNT OF VERSE by Ray Succre

The teacher bludgeoned the pubis into learning erection. Famulus learning, Cowley, Plath, vivisect-The branch of engineering admired her tits, guttural, in the thing named or in question, an atheism; they had sex in the backseat, encyclopedist heads and feed in disgusting gut sidings. Shakespearean from his pants open, palled with her wet text, "Am I anti-arrhythmic yet? Overbold bright?" He released color when rubbed, badly dyed. "Nyet, little wiener, we're to study Pound. Then Donne." The car on the ambo shook its seats in close, and the virile wheel was locked to the lectern. There were many others waiting.

Spudgun #1  

Magazine of poetry and art

Spudgun #1  

Magazine of poetry and art