Lady, I will lie upon soft fur sheets,
thinking lustful thoughts of tiny baby animals, sacrificed
to satisfy my moment's whim, and then throw the sheets
away, just because.  And then trap more.

Lady, I will read dirty novels that say
terrible things about horny retarded black lesbian
nuns who are rape-pregnant and will soon
abort the (twin) children, in order to go and get more,
neglectful of the effect of their
quite excitable mutant AIDS upon their millions of
married churchgoing lovers.

Lady, I am thinking of writing a book that teaches
nobody anything at all, and I will write it 
wonderfully, in the fourth person singular,
and it will make me rich, because of its 
thick ivory covers, with slave-made haut-relief carvings
of Naked Ladies busy being Exploited together
with six baboons (each) and a sarcastic, bisexual
python who refuses to wear his giant, fuzzy, overcoat
condom.

Lady, I will think of writing my book, but I may not
do so, being distracted by the need to send much 
powdered milk to Ethiopes and money to help
that nice General Noriega get a Nobel Prize for Peace.

Lady, I will do all of these things multiply and
serially, and I will then commence to do them again.
yea, verily, all of this shall surely come to pass
unless you stop preaching at me
this very minute.

Lady; shut up; I am warning you...I am serious,
I have a keyboard!

And I Nkow How To Use It.

©  Copyright, 2000; Malcolm Beckett