The artists stroke and slap at matter,
Sensitively, like lovers around a clitoris,
Of the supreme Bitch Goddess, Beauty.
She, locked in passion
With the upright lingham of truth,
Licks and slowly writhes, coaxing
Fountains of steaming ejaculated bliss
To impregnate her ecstatic devotees
With the flaming semen of good vision.
Embryonic artworks grow
In the womb heart of the artists,
Until the fever of making seizes their limbs,
And they deliver their art through labors of love.
Fresh art, still warm from creative birth
Enters new eyes, awakening medicinal soul resonance.
The artists, never resting,
Follow after the undulating Bitch Goddess,
Ever slipping away until they clutch her.
Arousing her passion, they open their hearts,
Awaiting the next divine conception.