Fuck n' Chuck

Some would call him that,
The ancients had prophesied his descent into Oxnard.
They chose to call him fire jerk
And sung of the vomit dripping goddess's
Whose cum-rippled hair was like the dew of Oxnard mornings,
Nymphs who Fuck n' Chuck had in drunken protest,
As he carved their innards with snake and balls exploding
Filling them with the raging fire of the jerk,
The furnace of the jerk's stick
Born in that rod-happy and cum-drunk pussy,
That only the force of vomit could sooth.

When maidens had his glow
And gazed into his fire-jerky face
Flailing their coarse breasts,
They intuited Oxnard before Atlantis brought the sea to the land,
When Oxnard was desert and crow-tower of the ancient elves,
When Fuck n' Chuck rode on stallion and hoed the sow,
Pussy wet with farmers and swordsman's sons,
When goat and sheep would vomit before sunrise,
And profer to him the chunky acidic mush,
Rought from the furnace of their naval chakras
And Fuck n' Chuck would lick the glowing butter
Of their stomach's folly,
Before the rocking and rowing
Of his dog-like entry:
Whomever he fucked would chuck.