Ha-ha! The Wolf is Back!

All the Mayors of Chicago Both Past and Present
Can Eat and Drink from My Toilet Bowl!
a poem by Wolf Larsen

My Symphonies have Wrecking Balls in them!
All my paintings have giant testicles in them!
Testicles are the highest form of learning that man has ever known!
Then all the policemen begin dancing in the Yellow Rain erupting from my penis!
Then I serve a delicious Buffet of everything that comes out of my *** to the bourgeoisie!
And instead of using toilet paper I invite all the politicians to lick my ***
in order to save the environment!
And now I write symphonies full of flying hatchets
And Now I write literature full of music
And All the modern dancers begin dancing to my orgasms
And suddenly all the police dancing in my yellow rain
turn into pink flamingos kissing the *** of the proletariat
Let the proletariat be a tidal wave crossing across the planet Earth!
Let the proletariat Deliver Us from these rotten governments full of prostitutes!
Let the proletariat save us from the mushroom clouds!
Let the proletariat save us from these two kinds of political diarrhea
known as Demopublican and Republicrat!

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

I am The Greatest Jism Ever!
a poem by Wolf Larsen

I carve My Poetry into your flesh!
I ejaculate my songs all over your naked skin!
My Music opens up your legs!
My whip on your skin is the greatest joy!
Because all the Cockroaches love me!
Because all the Rats of the city surrender to me!
Satan worships me!
God is my errand boy!
God created transvestite unicorns with humongous Penises while I was busy jacking off!
But that's a lie!
Because I Wolf Larsen the Poet created all the delicious-magical-eyeballs you eat!
Because I Wolf Larsen the Poet gave birth to the Great Religion of Cannibalism!
And the Italian Renaissance began with My Jism!
Because My Jism is Magic!
Because My Jism is a white-gooey-symphony!
And that is why everyone on the planet Earth
Worships My Jism!
I Wolf Larsen am Jism!

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

Psycho Bananas Inside Your Science Teacher
a poem by Wolf Larsen

I fill the sky with all my fantasies
I jump out of the sky
and I simultaneously land on all the planets!
I fly with wings into new symphonies
that jump out of all of your penises!
And your penises are now all flying away to other solar systems
as all of you watch and cry!
And I watch and laugh!
I fly dinosaurs into new television commercials...
And I urinate Boogie Oogie Oogie music all over the police officers!
And then the poem trips on a castrated penis on the sidewalk?
As all the passerby sing radio commercials?
And then there’s all the planets & suns & moons on the subway train...
Because the subway train is full of those kinds of things!
Especially when we smear lemon meringue pie all over our naked bodies!!
And that's when the Penguins of Antarctica stare at us...
as if we had all stuck our tongues inside the vaginas of space aliens!
But I only stick my tongue inside of space-alien-vaginas on Thursday...
Because Thursday is when the rich-&-powerful walk the red carpet...
to the guillotine

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

Warning: Stop reading now if you are upset by obscenity or are very religious! You have been warned!

Since there are No Public Toilets for Me to Pee, and Since I was Recently Nearly Shot by the Chicago Police for the Crime of Peeing on a Tree, I Hereby Urinate all over the Chicago Police Department in this Poem...
A poem by Wolf Larsen

1,000 clones of Me jump out of the toilet while you're taking a piss!
Then suddenly you turn into 10,000 giraffes
flying all over your mother's mind!
But while you're in the Middle Ages your Penis is in the 22nd century!
So that's when millions of ladybugs begin devouring your body
As they sing space alien music to you
Space alien music sounds like two police officers beating up a middle-aged man
For peeing on a tree
And that's why thousands of Demopublican & Republicrat politicians
dancing in your testicles while they give toothpaste speeches about
Invading & bombing all the nations on Earth
Is the reason that the sun is shining...
Somewhere else

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

A Sky Made Out of Hemorrhoids
a poem by Wolf Larsen

My brains fall out of my butthole
And land all over the city
And the city flies away into somebody else's brains
As the symphony jumps off the planet Earth
And into a television commercial about hemorrhoids
And that’s when thousands of the television actor’s thoughts
Suddenly jump out of her face and become reality
And reality suddenly becomes a drunken - schizophrenia - of - a - painting
That's being painted by a house cat high on acid
In a century made out of orange peels
On a planet made out of string beans

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen



The Trailer Park of Three Testicles
a poem by Wolf Larsen

You lose your head somewhere in Egypt
And you lose your feet somewhere in Peru
And your poetry is fornicating with a humongous lizard in Vietnam
And no one is quite sure where your testicles are
But your testicles are safe and sound on the moon
And your penis is penetrating the planet of Jupiter
While you're driving your Toyota off a cliff
In Chicago
But since Chicago has no cliffs
The poem suddenly begins revolving-&-revolving around thousands of orangutans’ heads
In the rainforest that's crawling out of your crotch
While you sing herpes to the space station
That's orbiting around God's penis

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

It is only a matter of time before I am banned from the literary world because of obscenity. But I will post as long as I can.

Warning: Stop reading now if you are upset by obscenity or are very religious! You have been warned!

The Italian Renaissance in My Ballsack
a poem by Wolf Larsen


The Italian Renaissance in My Ballsack
Is filled with rabid dogs
Running around and around in My Ballsack
As they scream at me to impregnate everything!
And all the walls of all the buildings in the city
Suddenly have huge vaginas in them
And all of the huge vaginas in all of the walls of the city
Are begging to be impregnated by Me the Poet!
And I the Poet and My 10,000 poet clones -
Are the hoard of Wolf Larsen Poets
Rampaging through the city -
Impregnating all the buildings with poetry & art & song!
And all of the women of the world are begging to be impregnated by me!
They sing together in a chorus of female schizophrenia of want & need!
That can only be satisfied by the Italian Renaissance in My Ballsack!
And how could there be a god when there is a Poet named Wolf Larsen?!
So Me & my 10,000 poetry clones on Horseback with swords drawn -
We charge through heaven and we spread poetry by slashing & burning & killing
Because poetry is blood!
And blood is poetry!
And then Me & my ten thousand clones we go on to Rampage through the universe -
We rape all the space aliens -
We splash poetry all over the walls of their cities from our humongous penises!
The Italian Renaissance in our Ballsacks now splashing on the walls of cities across the Universe!
Because the Italian Renaissance in My Ballsack is the best Italian Renaissance of all!
All of the space aliens throughout the universe shall worship the Italian Renaissance in My Ballsack!
Only the Italian Renaissance in My Ballsack is the true art!
The Italian Renaissance in My Ballsack makes me the number one Artist in the universe!
I stand naked on every channel on your television set
And I scream poetry at you!
And the human race gets on their knees
Before My Poetry!

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

Warning: do not read this if you have a problem with obscenity! Or if you are very religious!

Michelangelo Chiseling a Sculpture of wolf Larsen ****ing a Goat up the ***
a poem by Wolf Larsen

So I’m ****ing this goat up the ***
While I'm writing this poem
On top of your head
Which is floating in a sky
That's on another planet
Being featured on a space alien television show
for screaming fish with human faces
Which are now all singing the algebraic equations of homoerotic-monastery-orgies
Being painted by Cleopatra with a castrated-penis-paintbrush
As transvestite kangaroos jump all over Washington DC
A place filled with prostitutes in suits called politicians
But maybe the poem should zig zag somewhere else
Maybe the poem should turn millions of skies above you upside down
As you float in thousands of memories
Made out of marshmallow armies playing cockroach-genital-music
somewhere south of the marijuana forest growing out of your genitalia
On a day made out of crunchy fried goat genitals that are as delicious
As a top 40 pop song stuck in your dog’s brains

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

Do not read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious. You have been warned!

Fixing a Scab’s Head with a Tire Iron
a poem by Wolf Larsen

Whenever your head is drifting through some song and up into the universe…
And your penis is growing out of thousands of planets at the same time...
And you're watching the planet Earth roll down a giant billboard table…
Where three clones of God are playing pool
Inside of the fiery hell of a space alien’s ballsack…
Then you know that the paintings have taken over your mind!
Then you know that the space aliens have stolen your mind!
And that's why you have to glue the universe together with your spermatozoa!
And after that happens you know that the toilet upstairs will overflow with 10,000 circus clowns
That will come into your apartment and have anal sex with your wife & your dog
While you watch and masturbate Beethoven's 5th Symphony
Into the face of the President of the United States of America

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen



A Terrorist Slice of Lemon Meringue Pie
a poem by Wolf Larsen

I turn my mind into thousands of symphonies & paintings having sex with each other!
And then I reach into your Ballsack and I pull out thousands of worms running for President of the United States of America!
It's one of those days when the postman is Charles Manson
And your Penis is talking to you in thousands of languages from outer space
and that's when you drink all of the paintings in the art museum until
You're as drunk as all of the factory chimneys singing Christmas carols & spermatozoa
To all of the lions inside of Julius Caesar’s Ballsack
Back when the Pittsburgh Steelers football team used to fly giant cockroaches
Into the skyscrapers of other planets
As a terrorist vibrator for all of the flying pink ballerinas in the sky sings opera...
So now some NSA agent scratching his balls is reading this poem
As thousands of naked green leprechauns dance on his desk
Somewhere near that giant venereal disease known as Washington DC
But since gravity is a lie and flying skyscrapers are made out of pink dildos stacked on top of each other
We can only shake each other's hands as we stand naked on the North Pole
Because this poem about America’s First Lady & a German Shepherd having fun in bed together
Becomes millions & millions of horny German Shepherds parachuting out of the sky
And making all of the women of the USA happy -
Very very happy!

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

Dear Wolf

I am anxious to know your take on whether our perception of a real world comes to us by an exercise of thought; or by a simple impression of sense; whether it is the universal that gives the individual reality; or the individual that shapes itself, by some process not explained, into a universal. Whether bodily movements are the causal antecedents of mental functions, or mind rather the reality which gives truth to body. Whether the highest life is a life of thought or a life of action. Whether intellectual also involves moral progress.

Perhaps in the end, the theory of a creative reason, is the answer to all materialistic theories of the universe.

As a case in point, Greek thought was determined by ascertainable laws. Whether controlling artistic imagination or penetrating to the objective truth of things, it remained always essentially homogeneous, and worked under the same forms of circumscription, analysis, and opposition. It began with external nature, and with a far distant past; nor could it begin otherwise, for only so could the subjects of its later meditations be reached.

It is generally thought that Hebraism has been opposed to Hellenism as the educating power whence our love of righteousness is derived, and which alone prevents the orgies of a primitive nature-worship from being still celebrated. And many look on old Roman religion as embodying a sense of duty higher than any bequeathed to us by Greece. The Greeks have, indeed, suffered seriously from their own sincerity. Their literature is a perfect image of their life, reflecting every blot and every flaw, unveiled, uncoloured, and undisguised.

Still, even taking the records as they stand, it is to Greek rather than to Hebrew or Roman annals that we must look for examples of true virtue; and in Greek literature, earlier than in any other, occur precepts like those which are now held to be most distinctively characteristic of Christian ethics. Our popular theologians are ready enough to admit that Hellenism was providentially the means of giving Christianity a world-wide diffusion; they ignore the fact that it gave the new faith not only wings to fly, but also eyes to see and a soul to love.

For from very early times there was an intuition of humanity in Hellas which only needed development to become an all-sufficient law of life.

Thus, Homer sympathizes ardently with his own countrymen, but he never vilifies their enemies. What would he, whose Odysseus will not allow a shout of triumph to be raised over the fallen, have said to Deborah’s exultation at the murder of a suppliant fugitive?

Courage was, indeed, with him the highest virtue, and Greek literature abounds in martial spirit-stirring tones, but it is nearly always by the necessities of self-defense that this enthusiasm is invoked; with Pindar and Simonides, with Aeschylus and Sophocles, it is resistance to an invader that we find commemorated; and the victories which make Greek history so glorious were won in fighting to repel an unjust aggression perpetrated either by the barbarians or by a tyrant state among the Greeks themselves.

But unfortunately, the work that Hellas was destined to perform was time limited; it had to be accomplished in a few generations, or not at all.

The barbarians were forcing their way in on every side, not merely with the weight of invading armies, but with the deadlier pressure of a benumbing superstition, with the brute-worship of Egypt and the devil-worship of Phoenicia, with their delirious orgies, their mutilations, their crucifixions, and their gladiatorial contests.

Reason, the reason by which these terrors have been exorcised, could only arrive at maturity under the influence of free and uninterrupted discussion carried on by men among themselves in the gymnasium, the agora, the ecclêsia, and the dicastery.

But whatever were the corruptions of Greek sentiment, Greek philosophy had the power to purge them away. ‘Follow nature’ became the watchword of one school after another; and a precept which at first may have meant only that man should not fall below the brutes, was finally so interpreted as to imply an absolute control of sense by reason.

It has been said that the Greeks only worshipped beauty; that they cultivated morality from the aesthetic side; that virtue was with them a question, not of duty, but of taste.

But what a Greek worshipped was the perpetual and ever-present energizing of mind. You will no doubt have some sympathy with this, though in your case unrestrained imagination would take priority.

Best regards
M.

"though in your case unrestrained imagination would take priority."
-Manichaean

You're right about that!

Two more poems:

Do not read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious. You have been warned!

How the Universe was Created from a Dog’s Slobbering Saliva
a poem by Wolf Larsen


The planet Earth is one of Wolf Larsen's testicles
And the Moon is another one of Wolf Larsen's testicles
And the Sun is Wolf Larsen's third testicle
Because all of the planets are Wolf Larsen's testicles!
And Wolf Larsen’s testicles revolve around an infinity of suns
To the rhythms of a symphony of police batons beating up on protesters
Around the world -
a never-ending song being composed by
Liberal Dixiecrat royalty living in penthouses
And conservative Republican royalty living in huge mansions -
But let's talk about your face turning into a painting instead!
Or maybe drunken lizards in the sky that pee all over America
On a day when huge testicles are rolling down the streets
And all of the huge testicles are singing
The Star Spangled Banner
as all of the Vikings arrive from outer space
On giant spermatozoa ships
That were created inside of a flying baboon’s imagination
Back when paintings were created by fish -
Fish that were High on all of the poetry coming out of Smoke Stacks
Attached to God's head,
Particularly considering that Genghis Khan was just born yesterday
In a space station inside of the Virgin Mary's imagination
2000 years ago
when the skyscrapers danced across the face of the Earth
to The rhythms of Your dog's happiness
As he ****s your wife

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen


How to Unscrew the Universe
A poem by Wolf Larsen

The universe is a giant vagina
That I ejaculate my poetry into!
And as my poetry drips out of the universe
The 45 presidents of the United States of America dressed as transvestites
Dance to patriotic oranges & tangerines & watermelons
Floating in the sky...
The same sky that’s made out of the rhythms of
Giant talking spermatozoa
Standing at the blackboard at school
Explaining the mathematical equations of goat jism
And how this applies to the two-party system of
Demopublican and Republicrat politicians falling out of my *******
And into The toilet bowl of mainstream American politics
On a day win all the decapitated heads of the French Revolution are screaming
The titties of strawberries and
The buttocks of blueberries
And the nipples of tax-deductible donations to
The infinite number of strawberry-ice cream-venereal diseases
That happily call our names
Whenever thousands of snakes are slithering all over my poetry
because where else are you going to find a decent wife
To dance naked in the street with
As the giant genital crabs conquer the Earth
With their endless political speeches,
And that's why army tanks taste better than chocolate
especially when our own pubic hairs
Are growing out of all of the planets
That float out of our mouths
As we scream incest & family values
To all of the attractive robots drooling with sex
And more sex and more
Whipped cream on strawberries music
That touches our naked bodies
With the mushroom clouds

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

4 More Poems!

Do not read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious. You have been warned!

7 Billion Humans Inside Your Stomach
a poem by Wolf Larsen

Whenever my head disappears
And my hands are jacking off Michelangelo's David
And Michelangelo's David is ejaculating subway trains
All over the universe
Then I know that licking your feet is the answer to World Peace!
And I know that your face is a Cubist centerfold
On a planet of talking-giant-strawberries
where billions of cannibalistic humans
Are attacking each other with glow-in-the-dark dildos
In cities of giant mushrooms
Growing out of the words in this poem...

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

A Homeless Man on the Subway Making Love to the Greek Gods
a poem by Wolf Larsen

The winds carry new civilizations to me
And the clouds above
Shout their silence
At our giant ears that grow & grow out of our heads
And the rivers disappear into mental illness
And the mountains are made out of human corpses
And the human corpses scream at the sky

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen


Happy Graveyards
A poem by Wolf Larsen

A Boiling Pot of cities
Is flying off the planet Earth
While everyone jumps out of 100 story windows and sings operas
To all of the human feet flying through the sky
While blue and green civilizations play cosmic chess
With all of the space aliens devouring each other on the subway trains

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

Oh Guillotine! Save Us! Pleeeeaaase!!
A poem by Wolf Larsen

The Commander-in-Chief conducts a worldwide famine
While both the liberal & conservative rich eat the brains out of our heads
And drink the champagne flowing like a waterfall from God's magical penis
And the generals order their soldiers to shoot the demonstrators
And the blood splashes down the streets of cities worldwide
While both the liberal & conservative politicians play musical chairs in their governments of snot & diarrhea
And as both the liberal & conservative politicians hover their fingers ever closer over the nuclear button
The people have nothing to eat but armaments
Their wages don't even buy necessities
While both liberals & conservatives count their billions stolen from the workers
And the rent in a closet studio “apartment” costs a month’s wages
And the people begin shouting for the magical guillotine to deliver us
The magical guillotine will deliver us from our misery
Whether their skin is Black or White these politicians talk endless diseases out of the toilet bowls of their mouths
Whether their skin is Black or White the billy clubs & bullets of these cops is a never-ending nightmare of brutality
Whether their skin is Black or White these judges are nothing more then buttocks in black robes talking out of the anuses in the middle of their faces
They are all the worst kind of mold upon civilization
They are all nothing but a bunch of diseases with human faces
They are all a tidal wave of dysentery flooding the world with their greed & hypocrisy & endless lies
Oh guillotine! Please come and save us workers from the bourgeoisie
Oh guillotine! Please come and save the world from the war profiteers and war hungry politicians both liberal & conservative!
Oh guillotine! Please come and give the human race the blue sky that it yearns for!
Only the guillotine can bring us peace from these endless wars!
Only the guillotine can finally put these greedy landlords from the Middle Ages to rest!
Oh when will we finally bury these Lords of the Land?!
When will young men have good-paying jobs instead of having to march off to war every year?!
When will women finally have free quality child care and jobs and their own money?!
When will Jews & Muslims & Blacks & gays & immigrants & progressive whites be safe from these bloodthirsty white supremacists?!
Oh guillotine! please come and save us!

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

Enjoyed this offering:

Quote:

---

A Homeless Man on the Subway Making Love to the Greek Gods
a poem by Wolf Larsen

The winds carry new civilizations to me
And the clouds above
Shout their silence
At our giant ears that grow & grow out of our heads
And the rivers disappear into mental illness
And the mountains are made out of human corpses
And the human corpses scream at the sky

---

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor

Thank you Tailor Stately!

New poem:

Do not read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious. You have been warned!

Eating Flying Insects with Insane Roman Emperors at the Bus Stop
a poem by Wolf Larsen

Have you ever found your own head floating inside of millions of toilets?
Or have you ever been flying through the sky on a giant banana?
While all the clowns floating in the sky around you
Were singing about the orgies on Mars?
Then, what else can we do but masturbate to the symphonies of Saturn's rings?
And then listen to fat-naked-transvestite-politicians screaming porno flick dialogues at us...
While we chop off our feet and give them to the ducks?
Because the ducks are our friends!
They are our friends of wet panty monologues
Sung with all the yapping dogs with wings flying around us!
And S & M imagery dribbling out of the mouth of a sexy transvestite Jesus Christ
As He jumps out of a wedding cake and dances to Einstein's theory of relativity
While the Virgin Mary opens her legs to Medieval architecture under the
Golden arcs of McDonald's in a novel written by circus clowns dying
On the cross as the
sexy dildo rocketships are blasting off to
New planets made out of pancakes & maple syrup where the
Sex robots perform politics with the tall buildings in women's dresses as
Rainbows of pornography fly everywhere somewhere south of the
Nuclear submarines in our minds waiting for World War 3 on
Days of sun & rain dancing with television commercials that
Create blue worlds of hypnotic sex skies which
Speak to us in giant homoerotic tongues that create
Queen of england love doll fantasies with mustard that only
the brilliant purple toads on top of our heads can understand in a
Junkyard full of 12 tone opera singers in centuries full of
fire when poems don't know where to end because
The poems are racing faster & faster down deranged highways that
Fly off to songs filled with dancing love dolls in pink dresses
In a human zoo of horny Caligula clones,
And now I have to go pee

Copyright 2019 by Wolf Larsen

Do not read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious. You have been warned!

The Blue Sky Song
a poem by Wolf Larsen

Thousands of space aliens writing poetry with their penises
Jump out of your mother's vagina
And into the outer space spinning around this poem
As the radio stings all the blue skies you can imagine
And the space satellites revolve & revolve around your horny dog
****ing Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa as she
Gives a blowjob to a Picasso clone who came from
The moon in someone else’s poem flowing
Across the dreams of all the flying birds who
Sing the forest up into the heavens -
The Same Heavens where the orange & pink dogs
Dance to the Symphony of Cannibals being played by
All the giant purple & green dinosaurs on the street corner who yearn for
Arabic calligraphy & classical music to dance together through
All the hashish smoke coming out of the industrial smoke stacks growing
Out of all of the giant Himalayan mountains of bubble gum being chewed by
All the rats in the government of basterds in
Judge’s robes & police uniforms & politician’s suits as the
Music stabs the poet with hundreds of monsters that are now
Eating through the body of the poet as the poet screams universes
out of his ears and paintings out of his eyes and entire civilizations out of his mouth
While the poet’s feet are dancing to the executions from sea to shining sea in a police state
Headed by asses & elephants

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen