World Record in Japan: Largest Orgy

Yes, it really happened.  Here’s the link:

World record in Japan: largest orgy
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World Record in Japan: Largest Orgy

“Synchronized positions from oral sex, 69 action, girl on top sex, zoom ups on various individuals and ejaculations on the breasts to complete the production.”  — from the ad for the DVD of the event

Only the untried
imagining
is ever truly perfect,
so let’s assume the actual event
was as awkward in execution
as it seems to appear from the photos:

two hundred and fifty couples
in normed and scripted unison,
all allegedly getting off
while the cameras whirred
in dry anticipation
of commercial gain and worldwide
admiration.

You can bet that somewhere
out there in the warehouse
someone was thinking of the past
and someone else of the future,
while at least a few were likely
looking elsewhere
so that the lovely bodies
moaning on the next mat
could urge them on
in the name of
achieving individual goals:

fame,
bragging rights,
the honor of having been there,
a jump start for a fading lust,
a rocks-off jazzing of a minimal life,
a fantasy of everything visible
amplifying the personal moment.

What happened afterward
was unrecorded. It seems likely
that some left together
and some did not.  Some
likely tried to forget that it had happened
and some went home and did something
that hadn’t been in the script and
some thought about making it bigger,
grander, introducing new elements,
new positions and toys,
calling up a few friends
to rehearse…

because somewhere out there,
beyond
the synchronized acts
and the documented proof
of said acts,
the untried remains,
perfection remains.

It will still be there
when you get up tomorrow
from wherever you’ve laid yourself down.

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Hating A Sports Team

hating a sports team
is like loving the stuffed unicorn
you won after long hours at a carnival game

a good time as long as you remember
they’re both emblems
of how much money gets spent

on projected dreams
you could probably have realized
on your own

if you’d spent more time
and less cash on letting someone
sell you on their version

of war and theft
on competition as metaphor
for something you lack

and loving a sports team
isn’t much different
unless you’ve got the arm for it

and you probably don’t
or else you’d be playing not watching
and you’d know it’s all a business

fueled by slippery-smart men
who know their mythology better
than you know yourself

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