This Isn’t Sarcasm (1986)

I was watching PEN ’86 on television last night
and all the writers bitched and complained about politics in literature,
and I got really pissed off,
I mean, why wasn’t I invited?
I can bitch and complain with the best of them,
and besides,
I’m a better poet than Allen Ginsberg
and better looking as well.

A Song of Heartache (1980)

I was running through a field
containing icicles in the sun,
the burning hot rays could not melt the ice
so I proceeded to fuck a nun /
she squealed as we tossed and turned on a squeaky bed,
I got up to go, she said: “Give me one more head.” /
But the inspiration was gone
I had nothing left to give,
I said: “I’ll come back next week,” she said: “maybe you’ll come.”
She sighed and turned her Gideon’s Bible to page one.