Men with their shirts off holding flowers.
That’s the thing.
Some call themselves They, but not all.
Some He’s call themselves She. Some want
to be We. There is even someone who insists
on being known as No One. That’s me.
Call me No One from now on. It fits me.
Some insist on calling me white. These people
dwell in the land of the obvious. They are simpletons.
The simpletons want to know my cock size, too. I send
in pictures of my nipples. They are cannibals. I send in
samples from between my toes.
I don’t want to be greeted with a sniff. Dog culture is not
my culture. People who claim to know everything bore me.
I insist on remaining me. The heightened hysteria scares me.
Self-flagellation is not my thing. I’d prefer to be beaten.
I’m all about having it off with those who insist on obedience
for a thrill, not as a routine. I’m into Say Please.
Dog culture is our culture. We culture is our culture. Tribalism is deadly.
People who eat dirt have taken over. The women live like insects.
They don’t want to be caressed; they want to be kicked.
They shit on the sidewalks. They drink their own urine. They snarl.
Their men are in search of masters. It’s a dog eat dog world of their
own making. They don’t talk. They sniff each other’s assholes.
It is the cult of ordeal, life as a crazed test. These are people who view
nude hiking trips in the jungle as a lifestyle. They’ve replaced Shakespeare
and Noel Coward with graffiti penned in feces. Tear up the floor boards.
Camp fires made up of dictionaries and Greek translations. They teach
their children to poke out each other’s eyes. It’s not a matter of being gay.
It’s a matter of sex slavery. Total physical degradation. It’s galleon humor.
The culture is all about fun. Nothing is more fun than watching other people
burn. Setting houses on fire, blocking fire trucks. Listening for and hearing
the crackling of human flesh and the final cries. Laughing over the screaming
is the final joy. Dancing on corpses, smashing faces, gouging out eyes.
These are our liberators. America awaits. The lost land of liberty has found
its saviors. Get in line, sniff, howl. Our fellow dogs have arrived.