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It Must Be Spring

I’d piss off a crayfish
I’d sneak with you, deer,
Or engage in behavior
From macho to queer
As long as it’s healthy
And no one objects;
Birds do it, bees do it
And fuck, I want sex!

We’ll do it like lions—
I’ll stop when you bite
Or peregrine falcons
Who couple in flight
Or lusty giraffes, we’ll
Entangle our necks
It’s springtime, or nearly,
And fuck, I want sex!

I’ll embrace you forever
Like anglerfish, maybe
Or else, like a seahorse,
I’ll carry the baby;
I’ll lasso you close,
Like an Argentine Duck
With its corkscrew-like penis,
But dammit, let’s fuck!

We’ll make like banana slugs,
Lusty and zealous
And do stuff to make
The bonobos all jealous;

The truth is, I’m married,
And thus, out of luck,
But the spirit is willing,
So pleeeease, can we fuck?

Context here… and especially here.

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