Clustered tight
around those teats
in sheer seethe,
the glutinous mass swarms
in demon-driven
pursuit of pleasure, 
societal semen a-spurt.
It sucks,
our nether end does. 
Measure it — 
the squabbling
and success stories 
the incessant squaring off 
and coupling — 
by the miasmal
spew of batshit — 
Only the fumes
rise, seeding
the surfeit, falling
fat in the fire.

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