no cuhunas

i knew you with balls

but took a recent census

and found your grove

had lost its nuts.

call it middle age,

or the be-witching

hour, but what the

heck happened

to the bone

that broke

your

self respect

and now you

only ring when

lady bird

flies da coup.

i miss those

prophecies of

i, self,

divine

and hope your

cuhunas

return home,

once again, brother.