Ha-ha! The Wolf is Back!

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity.

World War III Makes My Balls Itch
A poem by Wolf Larsen

The trumpet is playing all your wet dreams
When suddenly your giant penis rises up and crashes into heaven
And somehow all the nuclear submarines in heaven wind up floating in your toilet
The President of the United States is notified of the situation
But the President is too busy snorting all the orgies of the Roman Empire up his nose
Meanwhile the First Lady’s Tits proclaim sanctions on Canada
Because Canada harbors terrorist polar bears that fly out of the penises of Canadian Mounties every leap year
Meanwhile the Dixiecrat contender for President is picking Andy Warhol’s art out of his nose
And then a mushroom cloud jumps out of God’s penis and says, “Good Morning!”

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity.

The Tribunal on Corporate Wife Exchanges
Declares a Ruling on Jellyfish Jism
A poem by Wolf Larsen

This ruling shall be sung by nine pairs of buttocks wearing judge’s robes.

Whereas, the walls of jellyfish jism
Are lollipops to the delirious tongues of porn actresses
Whereas, the intergalactic-bellybutton-exchanges
Are a threat to our capitalist civilization of government & corporate whorehouses
And whereas, The Tribunal on Corporate Wife Exchanges
Recognizes the importance of huge testicles in all of our ceilings
The Tribunal on Corporate Wife Exchanges declares that
Blue skies made out of crawling tarantulas
Can no longer be considered classical music to all of the space alien murals
Inside the brains of fish
Especially when the fireworks be jumping out of our penises
So, in response, The Tribunal on Corporate Wife Exchanges declares that
All female orgasms shall be taxed by intergalactic fish riding bicycles
Through all the glorious buttholes of bourgeois good taste
Found in the grand toilets of the pubic hair planets
And furthermore, The Tribunal on Corporate Wife Exchanges
Finds that all buttholes in the faces of capitalist politicians shall be
Declared to be orifices of wisdom
Whose knowledge is as infinite as any smiling *** running for President
This declaration of The Tribunal on Corporate Wife Exchanges
Posted on this tidal wave of Tuesdays
In this season of elections to decide who shall be the Great Syphilis of the Free World
On this planet of whorehouses
So help us to eat dog
Yummy!
And finally, to conclude this declaration worthy of publication on your favorite toilet paper
Let us all accept these “donations” of white envelopes under the table
With all the graciousness of a wicked wink
In the honorary tradition of buttocks in black robes everywhere

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

A Giant Duck Singing the World on Fire
As it Rides a Kangaroo Off to the Vietnam War
a poem by Wolf Larsen

I was setting fire to all the space satellites in my dreams
When a flying giraffe with huge teeth bit the moon in the ***
I said I was setting fire to all the space satellites in my dreams
When a flying giraffe suddenly bit the moon in the ***
And now my wife has been swallowed by the big black hole in the middle of the universe
And I don’t know what to do
I’m so broke and hungry that I be eating all the thoughts in your head
I say that I be so broke and hungry that I be eating all the thoughts in your head
And that’s why the universe is being eaten by ants that escaped from a Salvador Dali painting
Now it’s time to go
And fly off to the land of pink mountains & talking rivers
I say that now it’s time to go
And fly off to that land of pink mountains and talking rivers
Hope you all have a good time floating on that big old testicle in outer space
It’s time to say goodbye
Biiiinnggg - boooonnnngggg - boooooommm…

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious.

Spermatozoa Waltzing & Waltzing Around Your Ballsack 24 Hours a Day
A poem by Wolf Larsen

Thousands of planet Earths begin waltzing around the symphony
And the symphony is waltzing & waltzing around your spermatozoa
As your spermatozoa is flying up into the womb of the sun
And the sun’s rays are waltzing & waltzing around the city
And the buildings & architecture of the city is waltzing & waltzing around you
And all the naked angels of heaven are waltzing & waltzing around you
As you walk through a universe of planets & suns & moons waltzing & waltzing around you
And now thousands of your clones are waltzing & waltzing around you as you sleep in your bed
And you wake up in hell to millions of sexy demons all waltzing & waltzing around you
And then you ejaculate poetry all over the universe

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious.

Two Luscious Mangoes & an Erect Mayflower Between the Preacher’s Legs
A poem by Wolf Larsen

Glory hallelujah to this empty page screaming at me
Glory hallelujah to all the spermatozoa in your brains
Glory hallelujah to all the symphonies in your ballsack
And praise the horny dogs that hump our legs
Praise the horny dogs for all the screaming monsters in these words
Praise the prostitute-politicians of both political parties
Praise the prostitute-politicians for all the pink rabbits jumping out of these words
Praise the priests & preachers
Praise the priests & politicians for all the vaginas devouring the rainbows in the sky
Can I get an amen
Can I get an amen for all the blueberry verbs flying off the page
The blueberry verbs that fly into our salivating mouths
Can I get an amen for all the transvestites strawberries
The transvestite strawberries that make nuclear submarines delicious
Now it’s time for collections & donations
Give me 10% for all nouns smoking crack cocaine in this poem
Give me 10% for all the city’s buses flying off to Jupiter
And before you leave here
Let me ejaculate all the sounds & smells of the city
All over you
And be blessed
With horny verbs dripping from your skin

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

My poetry channel on YouTube:
https://www.youtube.com/user/WolfLarsenNaked

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity.

Poetry is a Playground
A poem by Wolf Larsen

A child is digging in a sandbox for rainy nouns & sunny verbs
And then Bozo the Clown pulls a fire truck out of his *** and gives it to the child
And now the child is driving the fire truck down the avenue in Manhattan crashing into all the solar systems on the way
And the child’s smile stretches across the universe
And all the planets & suns & moons float out of out of the child’s smile
And that’s when a tornado in outer space grabs the planet Earth and throws it into a children’s story
And the children’s story puts on the intergalactic robes of the space manikins
And then the Great Wizard of Spermatozoa waves his Magic Dick
And turns the solar system into a delicious pastry being eaten by the reader
And now the reader floats up into a thunderstorm
And the reader is eaten by the end of the poem

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious.

Three Dancers & a Cello
A poem by Wolf Larsen

The first modern dancer jumps from the earth to the moon
The second dancer creates thousands of phrases of poetry in a series of bodily movements
The third dancer creates 2,000 years of immaculate conception in just a matter of moments
Then the cello does South America before it blossoms with Ireland and then throws in a jazz note
Meanwhile, the first dancer has jumped back to earth and is now rioting on stage
The second dancer is dancing the alphabet in reverse
The third dancer moves like she’s lost inside of a painting that we cannot see
Meanwhile, the cello is crashing the 20th century around a bit, before it dives into Romanticism
And the three dancers are doing 3 different world wars on stage
The cello plays the approaching mushroom clouds

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious.

The Blue Sky in Your Nightmare
A poem by Wolf Larsen

All the politicians are riding flying dildos off into the mushroom clouds
And choo-choo trains are rolling out of eyes & ears & penis of Mickey Mouse
And all the children are riding the choo-choo trains around God & the Devil doing immaculate conception together
While the new Czar of capitalist Russia is riding a surfboard into the 19th century
And the Big Rump of the White House is tweeting space alien hieroglyphics to all the laughing clowns in our testicles
While the American secret police & regular police & national guardsmen are busy stomping out freedom & liberty from sea to shining sea
And the Dixiecrat challenger for the throne of the world’s Warlord-in-Chief is slithering towards the election finish line
And now the poem becomes a tornado of screaming-human-faces
And paint & musical notes are falling out of the mouths of the screaming-human-faces
And now this poem is dripping in paint & musical notes

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity.

Futuristic Spermatozoa Machines that Blow in the Dark
A poem by Wolf Larsen

In the future we will communicate with each other via intergalactic telepathic spermatozoa
In the future we will make love via flying lollipops
In the future we will travel via love testicles with rocket boosters attached
In the future we will write poetry with the castrated penises of space aliens
In the future each one of us will have thousands of faces which we will share with each other every day
In the future we will create reality by picking humongous alligator eyeballs out of our noses and smearing them all over the walls of mental institutions
Everyone will snort everyone else up their noses in the future
We will live inside of each other’s brains

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or are easily offended, or if you are very religious.

A Homeless God Addressing the Seagulls
A poem by Wolf Larsen

The telepathic messages from our penises are burning through the sky
And the sailboats flying around our heads are really angels
The most beautiful angels that attack us with talking vaginas
While the skyscrapers scream & scream all night long
And the lake jumps over the space satellites
While the heavens come crashing down into our brains
And our brains are filled with herpes sores that talk to us in our sleep
So we pick up sticks off the ground and throw them at the big vagina in the middle of God’s face
And while God sits on the toilet reciting the 10 Commandments
We give the end of the poem a blow job

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious.

The Son of God Walking Down the Street Shouting
A poem by Wolf Larsen

I am the magical strawberries that this music is playing!
I am the railroad trains of collapsing vagina planets!
No one can cure the pigeons of flying rainbows like I can!
I am the son of God, listen to me!
Listen to the tornadoes in your testicles!
Listen to the speeding motorcycles flying off to glorious yeast infections!
Nobody can open the floodgates of chlamydia like I can!
Only the Kingdom of Chlamydia can save us!
Only My Father can save us from the raspberries & blueberries & boysenberries that are growing out of the nuclear submarines!
Save us from the poetry in the Devil’s Balzac!
Save us from the telephone wires connected to our brains!
Oh Father, why have you forsaken my speeches to everyone’s bellybuttons!
Oh Father, why are you urinating this poem from the sky into my mind?

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

My poetry on YouTube:
https://www.youtube.com/user/WolfLarsenNaked

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious.

Leonardo da Vinci Painting Wolf Larsen & a 4 Legged Dog Making Immaculate Conception Together on the Table of the Last Supper as Jesus & the Disciples Watch & Masturbate

A poem by Wolf Larsen

(This poem is to be sung by the 535 asses & elephants of the John Wayne Gacy Cannibalism Choir on Tuesday, November 3rd on Capitol Hill, Washington DC. Please RSVP)

I pull out my Dick and my urine flows across the universe in a curving-swirling-line of poetry
Meanwhile, her vagina is dancing from planet to planet
And her endless bellybuttons are playing thousands of pornographic symphonies from sea to shining sea
And the seven continents are rolling and rolling around me
While I give Jesus Christ on the cross a blow job
And as Jesus Christ makes immaculate conception with my wife
I sing like dozens of cats at 3 AM to all of the paintings inside of your head
Because you are my Juan Gris with a pair of tits & a Dick
And whenever I ejaculate all over your paintings I feel God’s laughter creating a new human race

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity, or if you are very religious.

Wolf Larsen Performs His Poetry for America’s First Family
A poem by Wolf Larsen

The President of the United States of America invites Me to the White House in Washington DC to
**** his wife the First Lady
And the President prepares the First Lady by putting his paintbrush-tongue into the Holy Church of Immaculate Conception between the First Lady’s legs
And with his paintbrush-tongue the American President creates Francisco de Goya’s painting Christ on the Mount of Olives between the legs of the First Lady
Then the President prepares my grand pen-phallus by putting his mouth around my penis
And the President’s mouth creates Wassily Kandinsky’s Composition 4 around my glorious pen-phallus
And with the cameras ready (the American people are watching)
The First Lady opens her legs and becomes the most irresistible living breathing Greek sculpture that the erotic imagination could ever create
And with my mighty giant pen-phallus ready to create the art of Paul Gauguin with the First Lady
I begin to enter the Holy Church of Immaculate Conception between the legs of the First Lady
And I am now thrusting the Spanish Inquisition into the First Lady
I am now thrusting the Apollo mission to the moon into the First Lady
I am now thrusting Cuban mambo music into the first lady
And the First Lady moans like an opera singer
The first lady moans with heroic Romantic era paintings pouring out of her mouth
The first lady moans with all of the birds of the world singing to us
And then I pull out and I ejaculate American realist painting all over the United States Congress
I ejaculate Andy Warhol’s pop art all over the nine justices of the Supreme Court
And I ejaculate Romare Bearden’s painting The Dove all over the President’s face
And all the American people who’ve been watching on television stand up and applaud from sea-to-shining-sea my great performance of erotic poetry in the White House
And then I am honored with the Oscar Academy Award for greatest performance for a Stud Poet
And then the Nobel Prize committee enters the Church of Immaculate Conception between the First Lady’s legs to study all my poetry dripping there
And the Nobel Prize committee awards Me with the Nobel Prize for Literature

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: Do NOT read this if you have a problem with obscenity.

A Space Station Made Out of Nipples & Booties & Erections
A poem by Wolf Larsen

At a construction site excavators are pulling huge universes out of the heads of Anne Sexton & Octavio Paz
And the excavators are dumping all of the huge universes into your head
Meanwhile the carpenters are hammering eyeballs into everyone’s faces
And the electricians are wiring everybody’s brains to the sun
And the plumbers are laying the pipe from the mouths of capitalist politicians to the sewer systems
And then a big vagina swallows up the construction site
And giant feet are stomping all over everyone’s imaginations
And the birds of the sky are ****ting lesser-evil Democratic politics all over everybody
And that’s when a tidal wave of syphilis jumps out of a symphony
And splashes across this poem

Copyright 2020 by Wolf Larsen

[tonywalt]

Perhaps your best.