There is the Fool

Pull the foreskin back and forth
Spank the play-write and his still born
Agree against all I've writ
Read the words in the history books
A minor vibration turns you on
An earthquake delight in a city asleep
You threw out the Compact Discs
And replaced them with first edition Wordsworth
Bookended by real voodoo heads
To be inherited by the clueless son
He curses his father in his sleep
He who ruined the only childhood he will have
Now we shall not swell the summer
Nor drown in autumn's teary leaves
The aroma of Gomorra's royal stables
Has kept us centred and boundless
Here there are no maps to guide
No stars in the ashes of the reincarnated gods
But there is the fool
Pulling the foreskin back and forth
Knowing when to stop and knowing when to leave
This is the turbaned prince
A holy beast who tenderly stabs the hollow heart
Behind! can you not hear me wail?
The conversation and dialect differs here
As do the colours on the blowfly's wing
And the smell of the animated foreskin
Brings forth puberty sheet memories
They bring forth medical book pages
And visions in the dark
We were the lonely princes
And the only tower we were prisoners of
Stood between our legs
Foreskins rolling back and forth