Some time ago in the furnace below
Grew restless the ruler of sin;
He dug through His closet
Composed a composite
Consisting of a violin.

The underworld rang with
Delectable twang
As Lucifer plucked on His strings;
E'en angels flew down
Allured by the sound
Til Cerberus plucked off their wings.

Eventually Satan grew bored of this, too;
That thrill-seeking ******* must capture the new;
So up to the land of the living He flew;
Disguised as a figure whom everyone knew.

First on the agenda of any pretender:
Extinguish the genuine soul;
He arrived in Genoa
Disguised as a boa
And silently swallowed him whole.  

With Europe His playground
The Devil, He made sound
That no one alive had yet heard;
He fiddled and plucked,
Gambled and ******,
Until inside Him syphilis stirred.  

His physical shell He now had to retire;
Back to the depths of the black and the fire;
Forever above will the humans admire;
The legend of strings; the king; the sire.

I was in a public restroom at the mall takin' a leak in one of those urinals.
There happened to be a TDH (tall dark and handsome) man standing next to me.
And as we were peeing in unison, I leaned over, leaned back,
Looked him in the eyes and said, "Nice ****, ******."

Why is he looking at my ****?
Is he gay?
Did he just call ME a ******?
Is he confused about his sexuality?
Why do I feel insecure about my **** all of a sudden?
What just happened?

I finished peeing before he did,
So I took my ***** self over to the sink and proceeded to wash my hands.
It wasn't long before TDH was by my side.
We were now washing our hands in unison and he looks over at me and says,
"Nice hands, ******."

Is he hitting on me?
Is he really gay?
Do I really have nice hands?
Does he want to touch them?
Is he just ******* with me?
I don't know what's happening but I like it =)

Turns out he wasn't gay... nor was I.  
We both just happened to be in the business of belittling strangers
With contradictory insults for no apparent reason.
It was a good day.

Some people perceive the act of
******* on a grave
To be a gesture of crude rudeness.
I couldn't disagree more.
How else is one to interact with the dead?
Digging them up is rather time consuming-
Not to mention illegal-
Whereas your ***** provides a direct stream-
A stream of warmth; life-
Straight down to your loved one.
Their physical situation is already on its way
To becoming one with nature.
I know if I were down there
I'd welcome any and all to
Stand or squat.
Help me rot.

It cannot be seen
Because
Nothing's there.
It cannot be felt
Because
Nothing's there.
It can be heard though...
It sounds like the mouth of a cave
Or miles of catacombs.
There's nothing to touch.
Nothing to smell...
But it can be felt.
Inside.
It creeps up on you
With the sound
And pulls the ground out
From under your feet.
Where it comes from
I haven't a clue...
Do you?