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“Frankie Metro Fucked a Goat” Recently I did a BTR online radio show with the poet Frankie Metro

. During the show, a poet by the name of Yossarian Hunter called in and proceeded to read a poem about fucking a dog. Yossarian went on to discuss various forms of animal fucking as well as the numerous virtues of bestiality. Seems this type of thing happens a lot where he lives in Mississippi and that his favorite animal to fuck is a goat. I'd never really thought much about fucking a goat. But Yossarian made a really good case for it. You can buy a goat for much cheaper than you can a hooker, and a hooker you only get for one night, whereas a goat you can keep for many years, plus it'll mow your yard. (Try getting a hooker to mow your yard!) Plus all you gotta do to make a goat happy is feed it. Just 99 cents will buy you an apple to feed a goat and make it happy, as opposed to a hooker who you gotta pay at least $50 for head alone, plus you might also have to buy him or her crack cocaine or some shit. Frankie Metro and I were initially repulsed though amused by Yossarian's praise of bestiality. However, through telepathy after the show, we discussed the matter in greater detail, and the more we talked about fucking a goat, the more turned on we got by it, so we decided to meet up the next night, at a peyote farm in the New Mexico desert, to try it ourselves. We agreed to rendezvous up at the farm at around 2am. When I got there, I didn't see Frankie Metro anywhere. I was walking around for a little while making tropical bird mating call sounds, trying to locate him, when all of a sudden Frankie Metro fell from the sky, landing right in front of me. Upon landing, he made some kind of mentally retarded, retching type yell, and did a Japanese style bow. I swear a gong clanged in the background. Frankie Metro was in perfect attire for the occasion. He was wearing bright red tights, knee high silver platform boots, a brown leather motorcycle type vest, and a white, ill fitting cape with a large marijuana leaf on it. He was also had on weight lifting gloves, one of those leather 1920's football helmets, and pink Barbie swimming goggles. I couldn't make out much of his face, probably because underneath the football helmet smoke was pouring out, a greenish type smoke, and I could see that he was pulling on a fat blunt. Without even saying a word, Frankie passed me the blunt and motioned me to follow him up to a nearby hill. I hit the blunt a few times and was instantly buzzed. It was some chronic shit. I almost forgot why we'd met anyway, but then I saw a goat gnawing on a bushel of hydroponic ganja up at the top of the hill, and I remembered why we were there. At first I thought maybe we were going to tag team the goat and suggested this to Frankie. However, neither of us wanted to be the one in front and to take a chance on the goat biting our dick off. Neither of us wanted to go for sloppy seconds, either, so we flipped a coin for first fuck. Frankie called heads and won. Initially he was somewhat reluctant to fuck the goat since he's married to a lovely transsexual midget, a Korean Karaoke singer named Tang Wu Doo Doo Kai, and worried fucking the goat would be like cheating on him/her. I assured Frankie that it's not. Bestiality doesn't count as cheating or adultery. I confirmed this as well through telepathy with Yossarian.

Frankie and I hit the blunt a few more times and Frankie was like fuck this shit, it's time to get all up in this goat ass. He yanked down his tights and broke out a penis I can only describe as monstrous. It wasn't as big as Yossarian's, but it was still big, about the length and width of a 1.5 liter water bottle. Besides the sheer size of it, noteworthy as well about Frankie Metro's penis was that it had dragon wings tattooed on it, big, neon purple ones, and that it was uncircumcised, with an especially long and floppy foreskin, which kinda resembled a folded slice of smoked turkey. His dick really looked like a weird fucked up faced neon dragon or something you might see if you were taking acid and watching Sesame Street. I was expecting Frankie Metro's penis to start shooting fire or singing the alphabet at any minute. His testicles were also unique. One testicle was damn near the size of a football, and the other the size of a ping pong ball. I'd no idea how they got so uneven like that or how this motherfucker even managed to walk. They were some hairy shits too. Fucking hairiest nads I'd ever seen. Looked like somebody'd caught Slash in a headlock. Frankie Metro cradled his dragon penis in his hand, stroking it 'till it achieved erection. He calmly approached the goat, which seemed oblivious to the whole thing, and rested his hands on the goat's furry buttocks. Frankie arched his ass backwards, then gave the goat a sudden pelvic thrust, and his massive unit rocketed right up into the goat's vagina. His dick entering the goat's pussy made a loud squishy type sound, like someone'd squashed an orange with a sledgehammer. Frankie closed his eyes, bent back his head, and began thrashing away at the goat, truly fucking it like the animal it was. The goat only made slight “bah” type murmurs, but Frankie, in trance of pleasure, started screaming uncontrollably, speaking in tongues, and again making those retarded retching sounds he'd made when we first met. After about five minutes of frantically fucking the goat, Frankie Metro appeared to orgasm into it, his whole body gyrating in spastic, violent, epileptic fit type convulsions, except his arms, which remained frozen still, in almost a yoga-like contortion. Once it appeared he'd finished orgasming, he reached down and tried to withdraw his penis from the goat, but couldn't. It seemed his penis had gotten stuck. Frankie Metro tried in vain to pull his penis out, but it was to no avail. Soon he started really freaking out, yelling, slapping, and punching at the goat, trying to break its vaginal grip. He cried out to me to help and I ran over to assist and attempted to yank the goat's head forward, thinking this might undo it. But it didn't. Actually it just pissed the goat off. The goat glanced up at me with a Satanic expression, as if it'd been fucked by one too many poets and it growled and butted forward, knocking me over. The goat “bah”ed with such an ear splitting squeal that I had to cover my ears, and I thought for a second my eardrums would explode. The goat then took off running... with Frankie Metro still attached to it. It ran like a racehorse, faster than any animal I could recall. The last I saw of it, it was dragging Frankie Metro by the dick over the slope of a sandstone hill. Frankie Metro's arms were flailing and slapping madly at the beast, his cape flapping in the wind, as the goat pulled him away, and I could still hear Frankie Metro's painful, retarded retching type screams for a couple minutes until they gradually faded away into the moonlit night. I then tried to contact Frankie Metro by telepathy but only got his voicemail. So I picked up his blunt, which was on the desert floor and still burning, hit it a couple times, plucked and ate a handful of peyote,

sat down on a rock, watched the stars in the sky change colors, and for some reason thought of that episode of “Who's the Boss?” where Tony sees Angela naked in the shower.

Originally published in Modus Operandi

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