Little did he know with his girth in place
indeed, the wrong place, in fact, the wrong hole
that he could not tell made all the difference
that he lacked, truly, the wherewithal, Grace
left him well alone to do his business
even though Bull pulled out, my name is Cole
divine Grace, my mom, by an inference
indeed, let a man bugger from behind
diminished, he filled her up with stiffness
how I came into the world, thrown and born
egoless, my soul, transient sojourn
kissed by divine Grace, my mom, without scorn
needed a baby, no husband, slow burn
owl full of wisdom, from a seed so blind
worthless to debate the value of life
while each soul is born to live for how long
in arrhythmia, syncopated beats
tell time as tempo, battles without strife
how Bull took the news, I never found out
how Bull up and died, convenient, his schlong
inside divine Grace, my mom, whom he cheats
sits inside a well, poisoned forever
given narrative as a form, I shout
in praise of Dark Hype and Hype Dark, Hyde Park
resides my Karmann Ghia nostalgia
transforms all theories conspiracies spark
how Bull ended up, sick with myalgia
investigators found nothing ever
nearly so fishy, smelling very strange
pretend no foul play, no harm done, he fell
link Project MKUltra to a well
argue against hate and war, acid dreams
cover up army dreamers with their screams
emigrate to Spain, the Dutch in orange
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