Sorry, if you were looking for the excellent Three Six Mafia song, this isn’t what this blog post is about, but here is the song…

First, I am honored and happy to share I got to do the foreword of Patrick Scott Barnes’ book The Butt Freak Blues

Foreword

If you look at a good onion booty, you’ve already seen poetry.

Nature, God, whatever you want to call The Mystery has given us two stanzas—one for each butt cheek.

Some poets and killjoys will say it is wrong to sexualize the female human form, but Barnes doesn’t fall for that bullshit and celebrates Nature’s greatest design in his own poetry.

I could say Barnes is the Franz Wright of the buttocks, but he is a bard of more than just booty. I’m a fan of Barnes cause he’s a poet who knows the bars, who watches humanity (its good and its bad) from his DJ booth, and sees what is really going on in the world—for better or worse.

If I wanted to get all academia on your asses, I’d label him a realist minimalist.

Or maybe an aggressive romantic.

Not really sure.

I’m not much of a critic or good with classifications, but I can say his poetry reflects what many men see late into the night. His poems are also very tight, authentic, and enjoyable.

I know a Patrick Barnes poem after a few lines.

It’s not the stuff you read in classrooms or crap you here at a lot of neutered poetry readings; Barnes gives us poems that make you nod your head, as you enjoy the lines, enjoy his truths, and feel that other Mystery that a great poem gives you.

The Butt Freak Blues it out on Kindle as well.

*****

Second, I am happy to share the music video my music project Moses Moses did for my WIP progress novella “Tits From Hell.” It is satire and meant to be viewed for fun and shares some of the plot but no spoilers. Lyrics Below it.

Tits From Hell

Elizabeth Plane,
Flat as her name
Angry at God,
Her cup size
was an A.

Got implants
From the Devil hands
Silicone, full of,
Dark Lord Satan

Now she feels hope
No longer a joke
But bad things happen
If you go an motorboat

Flesh gets ripped off
Her soul is lost
When in church
She melts off the cross

Chorus
She got tits from Hell
Under Satan’s Spell
She got tits from Hell
Under Satan’s Spell
Everyone knows,
Everyone can tell,
When it’s cold outside
You see the horns of Hell

Verse 2

In her Silicone
Is Satan’s home
As he waits to
Make earth his home

They more they motorboat
The more his power grow
When she lactates
Sulfur of Hell’s woe

She walks around
Eyes are never down
Her tits are the talk
of the town

If you get to close
You feel it in your nose
Your brain gets sucked
Along with your soul

Chorus

Solo

I hope you enjoy both.

Thanks,
Christoph

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *