More Hot Pointed Ears 4, A Conceptual Slash Poem

I had just signed on as stunt coordinateur
for the new, Jodorowsky directed, Charlie Kaufman
written, and Charlie Le Mindu art-directed,
Vulcan Lesbian Nun BDSM Melodrama
More Hot Pointed Ears 4, in which
Jolene Blalock's T'Pol becomes trapped
in an evil mountain convent run, it seems,
by a figure called 'The Master',
who is really Leonardo DaVinci, and
who satisfies his need for erotic
art by making the helpless nuns
pose in far-from-just-suggestive poses
to record them in drawings using a
camera obscura which is in fact
a large terracotta pot whose favored
oculis is an eye looking out from
within a stylized vagina radiating
layer upon layer of overlapping
labia meant to symbolize an atomic
optics, ~when I was asked to play
Marcel Duchamp who was really
an alien Time-Traveler sent to
mend a temporal abberation,
sculpture being akin to
"temporal policing".

Seeing an opportunity to rise
within the ranks of even this
lowly, if somewhat well supported
downstream effort of these aging
auteurs, I lept at the chance.
My role as Marcel Duchamp was to gently
nudge the aging DaVinci to end his
obsession with the peaceful nuns
who were in fact unconscious caretakers
of an alien object of which they had
no knowledge, but deep reverence, which
was also the reason for DaVinci's obsession,
as he had unknowingly come into contact with
this contagious item. Teaming up with T'Pol,
Duchamp carefully ateempts to set the older
man's libido back to his quirky thoughts
of war machines, and strange grace, instilling
in him a vision of "the bachelor machine,"
itself a symbol of renaissance
exculpatory masturbation.

The time-line is however damaged beyond
repair, and DaVinci learns the truth
about, not only alien life, and time-travel,
but the exact nature of the feminine
Vulcan orgasm in a scene where T'Pol
in an orgasmic rage resulting from
the frisson of wearing a Nun's habit
rendered as a bikini made of hot pink
tribbles and afghan hound yeti-boots which
only allow the pads of her toes to touch
the ground, emits a piercing cry which
draws 'The Master' from his vagina
carnation pot camera to then become
entangled with the nuns allowing
T'Pol to fiercely transmit
her orgasm via mindmeld.

The end result is that DaVinci,
instead of painting the Mona Lisa
as she should have been painted,
paints her as T'Pol, completely
nude, and sporting a monk's tonsure
grown long creating a diaphanous veil
which just reaches her eyes.
In a slight homage to Duchamp,
DaVinci paints an enormous
stone chocolate grinder
in the distance which is only
supplanted by a very frank,
and very naughtily curly
tribble moon, clefted,
and in a peach-like hue.