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Transcription of MAX Ride

Rubber cement. Entrances. "I regret everything."
Beggars on the MAX (local mass transit train), that's my poem.
Any artist's work reflects the state of his satisfaction with
his sex life. No wonder Spicer is so unfathomable!
Many at their best when their sex life is at its best I must say.

And so tonight I'm seeking pure inspiration strained down
to an elixir drenched in lust. To reclaim myself I must lose myself.
I'd love to do him or him or him and him. I'm in the mood for
a legion of legs, an army of arms, a barracks of chests, a tumult
of torsos, a phalanx of flanks flailing undressed undressing

glistening sweating groaning thrusting grabbing gagging a gang
of angels amassing holy energy. It's getting dark and soon
the only writing I'll be able to do will be done with my tongue.

Copyright 2006 by Greg Baysans