right back at ya. Imagine what would happen if pussies become as popular as angels? Youâd see them everywhere, embossed and glowingâon greeting cards, Christmas trees, book jackets, mantelpieces---people would pray to them for luck or mercy. Pussies would filter into our language so quickly every poet would write at least one pussy poem. Allen Ginsberg said that whoever controls the language, controls the race. Pussies should not be given control! Nothing short of disaster would follow. Pussies would determine the path of the thunderbolts and make the gullies for the rain. Pussies would strip the world of its worldliness. In hands such as yours, pussies might even lose their pussiness. There would be no past or tomorrow. Alas. But of course, you need not worry. Why? Because most donât know what a pussy is. Some imagine she flies, when in fact the pussy sucks men out of the air, one at a time. No one notices the missing, and the missing notice no one. Take your best friend, Joe, for example. Heâs been gone for weeks. Have you noticed? How heâs at peace forever, like a bee in clover. Like a tree frog in a soft July rain. And the pussy, too, now that sheâs found Joe.