John Giorno poem

and they are all sauntering around in there like asses
and they are sauntering
and they are sauntering around in there
like asses
but they aren't going anywhere
they're going nowhere
and they're not getting there
they're not getting anywhere
or no where very fast
they're sauntering
and their asses are supple
they're muscle
and the muscles clinch and relax
and the meat on their asses moves around
and it looks pretty good
but really
they aren't going anywhere
at least not anywhere you'd really like to go
not anywhere you'd care to visit
but their asses are sauntering around in there
just sauntering

asses