Smell You Later
Better shove off. It's time to flush beauty
from incredulity's redoubt. Good luck
doesn't apply here, let alone matriculate.
Professor Pleasure's gone away; rainbows
scared him, blasting in through windows,
introducing all new semen spray—
a single serving will light up the coast for a day
or so. Yes, the universe picked your nose
and that's impregnable, but you asked for
nothing less. Don't we all, before we go?