Impossible Songs for a Fart Machine (Poems by Wolf Larsen)

[WolfLarsen]

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

Sunny Thursday With Raspberry Sauce
A poem by Wolf Larsen

A thousand clones of you jump out of your dog’s mouth
And suddenly the sky is filled with millions of smiles
And under all the smiles in the sky the thousand clones of you
Are all dancing to Mozart masturbating a concerto
With a walrus playing the cello
5,000 Ronald Reagans playing the piano together
And Uncle Sam is on the drums playing somebody’s big booty making lots of noise
That’s when God & the Devil show up on motorcycles
And sell you some weed

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

Wolf Larsen performs his poetry, plays, & novels on YouTube:

[WolfLarsen]

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

Afternoon Encounter With Blue & Yellow
A poem by Wolf Larsen

She’s about to get pregnant from the sun & the moon
The words are swimming from the poem and into her pussy
She can feel poetry swimming up inside of her
It feels so warm
It feels so glory hallelujah
It feels so beautiful sunny day inside of her body
And the stranger’s sperm feels like 100 somersaults of joy
As her smile grows like the South & North American continents making love
Again & again

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

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

Happy Syphilis For President!
A poem by Wolf Larsen

I was sticking each word of the poem on a different planet
And on a plate in front of you is now thousands of different planets
And as you shove planets from all over the universe into your mouth
Your butthole sings a McDonald’s opera
To all of the puppies jumping out of Wolf Larsen’s ears
And now the doctor is shoving the Aurora Borealis up your butt
As he looks into your brains for some happy syphilis

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Hotter and Hotter and Hotter!
A poem by Wolf Larsen

Our brains begin boiling out of our heads
Everything we touch turns into fire
Your skin starts melting into words
You gather up the words of flesh
And you write your poetry
Under a sky that’s orange 24 hours a day
All the portraits in the paintings rip their clothes off
And scream with words of fire

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

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

Taking the Bus to Satan’s Butthole
A poem by Wolf Larsen

I am a Tyrannosaurus Rex that writes poetry
I’m a circus clown of words
I’m the porno star stud of masturbation
I’m a bunch of tomorrows in your today
Are you my blue sky?
Are you my Jizz Goddess?
Here we are in this immaculate conception space station
So let’s make some abstract expressionism together!
Let’s conquer the 19th century with our nuclear missiles!
So Picasso will paint the Paleolithic Era all over our wet dreams
I’ll get some politically correct dildos from the Mayor
See you soon!

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

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

The Fish in the Sky Are Screaming
A poem by Wolf Larsen

The Empire State Building ejaculates the stars & moon & sun all over the Puritans on the Mayflower
And then as you’re snorting all the buildings of Manhattan up your nose
10,000 bunny rabbits suddenly jump out of your booty hole
So you climb up a run-on sentence that’s growing millions of miles up into the sky
And then you juuuuuuuuuuuuump
And you land on stage at a comedy show
And the audience all jump inside your head
But instead of laughing they all start screaming & screaming

Copyright 2021 by wolf Larsen

Wolf Larsen performs his poetry, plays, & novels on YouTube:

[WolfLarsen]

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

Where’s Outer Space?
A poem by Wolf Larsen

I zoop the testicle machine
Because walnuts with strawberries from the moon
Are my favorite symphonies!
Especially with all the crack-cocaine-hieroglyphic-speeches
Goin’ on in Washington DC
(and all the other nations’ capitals)
I was thinkin’ that the stars are as delicious as your pussy!
Is outer space in your pussy?

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Walking to Hell
A poem by Wolf Larsen

The Penis Conquerors of the Strawberry Peoples
Were singing my glorious diseases and your glorious diseases and their glorious diseases
To all of the lions & tigers stampeding down the streets
And the streets were going up-and-down like waves of yesterdays
And the only thing to do was call up your favorite dead relative
On one of those 1970s public telephones growing out of some Martian’s head
And tell them (the dead relative)
That everything is burning

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

The Drums of Crazy
A poem by Wolf Larsen

I pull billions of poems out of all the asses of the human race
Then I dance to the cubism that you’re screaming out of your mouth
Then your feet begin stomping tidal waves of mental illness into the earth
And all our belly buttons go schizophrenic
While space aliens on planets across the universe play-the-drums and play-the-drums
And all the words in all the languages everywhere dance-to-the-drums and dance-to-the-drums
And then a tidal wave of everything crazy
Begins splashing around in your head

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

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

A Little Happiness…
A poem by Wolf Larsen

Claude Monet paints one of my poems
As I sit here in front of a pond with words growing out of it
The floating penises & breasts & butts of the passing clouds overhead
Sing with the orgies of heaven above
As the African drums nearby create verbs and more verbs and more verbs
That dance with all the nouns forming in your mind
And the words jumping back-and-forth in the bar you just left
All falling & crashing down at the end of the poem

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

Worms of Creativity Crawling Through Your Mind...
A poem by Wolf Larsen

I crash through the wall of poetry
I paint all the sunlight on this canvas
All my zig-zagged craziness I sing with paint
Paint & words that I crash together all night long
I am as gay and straight as a bisexual solar system
Of planets filled with beautiful men
All painted by a space alien Michelangelo
In a different universe
On the other side
Of your mind

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

Wolf Larsen performs his poetry, plays, & novels on YouTube:

[WolfLarsen]

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

Garbage Truck Morning
A poem by Wolf Larsen

It was the chlamydia of your dreams
It was some cinnamon in your Milky Way Galaxy
It was pubic hairs growing out of your politics
It was a giant erection growing out of the priest’s forehead
During Sunday mass
Because I love you like a mosquito loves your blood
I will give you all the madmen of the universe
Splashing through your vagina
And now with my baby at your tit
You remember me with sadness and a smile

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

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

My Sperm in New Awoke Flavors!
A poem by Wolf Larsen

It’s a Stop-&-Go Jism Festival
Made out of masturbations & poetry
It’s a thousand ejaculations of words all over the page
Every day
It’s the Punk Rock Orgasm Armageddon
With CIA wet dreams in the 10,000 booty holes of this Shakespeare play
It’s drive-by shootings in a funky cool disco beat
It's a child-molesting pizza parlor with endangered species & God’s jizz as my favorite toppings
Somewhere in the Washington DC of my vagina
(I had one installed last week)
In my forehead
I’m going to use an electric Washington Monument as my patriotic vibrator
I’m cumming soon! I’ll be there!

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

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

Streetlight, Lightning, Words
A poem by Wolf Larsen

The poem is a place where a thousand clowns are ****ing each other up the ***
The poem is an event where the Poets dance like crazy words
And the dancers dance like science crashing into religion
And the musicians play earthquakes rushing up from the page
The poem is a time a moment a Ka-boom a flying of verbs
The poem is a music a dance a WOW a flood of faces
The poem somersaults out of the page
And lands in the sea and swims away

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen

[WolfLarsen]

A Dead Bird Singing
A poem by Wolf Larsen

The crickets are jumping out of poems and into other poems
And huge planets are floating up out of our minds
And we watch space stations full of rolling marijuana fields
Revolve and revolve around the phrases of poetry
While all the verbs bite us with emotion
And the crickets sing a bunch of naughty nouns
And the ding-dinging-rumbling-trains fly in-&-out of the graffiti murals
That we paint with our brightly colored poetry
And then we jump into the ground
And lay there

Copyright 2021 by Wolf Larsen