[Hope, prosthesis for]
Mark Yakich

Like Nietzsche I hug a horse
But it doesn't help

The women still make fun of
The eczema on my penis

And it's run-of-the-mill
Stupid of me to line

The plank with oil
Who can live without self-

Gratification who can live
Et cetera

It's hard not to think
In terms of winning and losing

And losing more it's hard
It's soft it's hard and then

She says brother O
You look so young

Just as well alive
Not hung