POETRY CORNER

A twisting twirling thing
A danglin' from a ledge in wienna
The vas deferens out of a womens mouth
Spinning like a chandelier in a Tel Aviv Slum
It's Hitler's ball and it's on the run

I heard it first rolling down the lane
With the texture of a skin head
& a weight of dried smegma
Wrinkled like a prune

Removed from it's master by one Eva Braun
In a tormented night's fling
Swished it round the room like a lasso
it made a bean line for the Fuhrer's head
In time he ducked and out of this berchgatesgarden eyrie it flew
Landed in a nearby Jew's bed

Now it's travelled the world
an original ball on the run

xenox haiku