When the human mind is
put to the problem of pussy,
it is put through the test of being
completely enveloped by pussy.
I have never maintained visual indifference
in the presence of pussy. Between a shovel, a shoe,
a door and a pussy, I find my eye always falls
on pussy. Once the eye falls on pussy it falls away
from everything that is not pussy.
I like pussy
up real close
where all I can
see is the pussy.
A famous French painter
once painted a picture of pussy
and it was a very good likeness.
It was like the outside of the pussy.
Some pussy emphasizes semantic density
over romantic intensity, but it is still pussy.
Sometimes you see
a woman's head and not
her pussy and sometimes you
see her pussy and not her head.
The eye of man
follows the pussy
with pious gloom.
I find James Joyce pretentious,
but I find pussy really interesting.
It is interesting to think of James Joyce
as a normal man.
Pussy can heighten
the poet's sense of absurdity
but it can also heighten
the poet's sense of familiarity.
I never laugh
when I see pussy
because pussy is not funny
and what is funny is not pussy.
Pussy is sometimes realistic
in the tradition of Flaubert
and sometimes quite dreamlike
in the tradition of women.
As I approached the pussy I was pleased
to find there were no aspens surrounding it,
just the warm contrast of two shades of orange.