callipygian

Hormane is here
sucking a pleasant plum
always here
waiting for a fortuitous encounter with
callipygous moments

There are theories
of how juices flow to soft places
fly between volcanic embraces
it is the reason why buxom numbers spill
out of the economist’s cup
what we wouldn’t do for more, more, more
for a larger one, a grander heftier tool

We’ll make
a fool out of daylight
for sure

And in the spare time
Hormane unscrambles the letters
Spells out Z A F T I G
something big, something full
of possibilities full
of outpouring

Hormane is always there
sucking a plump pleasing sweetened
life
so take a bow, and
another and another, another and
Ahhhh
all the cracks in the theories reveal themselves spontaneously
and the crackpots grunt
for joy and the crackpots overwhelm Hormane with
a gush of empty doctrine
tenacious tenets that
fill the space with more, more, more