Wolf Larsen has traveled to over 50 countries. For many years, Wolf worked as a seasonal laborer in Alaska.
Wolf Larsen has traveled to over 50 countries. For many years, Wolf worked as a seasonal laborer in Alaska.
And Wolf is a virgin that's
had sex with 500 women!
Get Wolf's very funny novel
Honky Fucking Crazy N-Word Lover
on Amazon!
Chicago Transplant Authority (comedy podcast) Interviews Wolf Larsen
"The ramblings of a narcissistic, self-obsessed, deranged mind." Marbles on online literature 2014
"Might I suggest you lay off the glue sniffing, Wolf….." – Obadiah Grey On Algonquin’sTable May,
"This is amazing!!!!!!! A love poem for the MDMA Generation!" – HCabaret on online literature,
"Mr. Wolf, this is really too in your face (yes, your FACE) to be taken seriously. You are heavily into the genitals of many species, it seems. I just can't relate." — Isabelle5
On poetry critical: Wolf, These postings of yours are exciting, refreshing and freakish. You really need to collect them all and publish a book. I would buy it"
"I like how you challenge the strangeness of sameness" – wetsalt on okay player.com, March 2013
"I think I'm not on the right kind of drugs to read this." – Somebody on wtf.com, a site that later banned Wolf Larsen, 2013
"It's like Kurt Vonnegut on ecstasy with a Xanax chaser." – Somebody else on wtf.com, 2013
" ...good read, I always follow your posts..." – Feamailman on hip forums, 2013
"Nobody macerates the bard better than you Wolf." – Harry Hill on Literotica said regarding Wolf Larsen's Canto 11
"This smacks of a rather demented mix of William Burroughs, Bennet....oh... and Fritz the cat.! " – Ignatius on Algonquin's Table January 11th, 2013
"I just don't understand you. Everything you write is so gratuitously ... vulgar... It's borderline offensive." – Music Mafia on fiction post.com, 2013
"I fear, after taking the time to read this piece of stereotypical toilet humour tropes, I must offer my own far from positive review... It seems that you write in order to shock, offend, insult, transgress, push boundaries, break taboos, offer up the grotesque on an equally grotesque plate. I assume you think this is creative, imaginative, bold, daring, innovative? A frenetic pace, a mashing together of ugly words and ideas, a wrecking ball to that tyrannical establishment you so long to annihilate? Yet, the content is childish. The style pedestrian. You seem to desperately crave avoidance of the pedantic, but in this desperation you spin yourself full circle into just another form of pedantry. The pedantry of the overly obscene. Being grotesque isn't new. And it can be ****ing beautiful. I suggest you read the aesthetic ugliness of Bataille, or the fetishistic symphonies of certain sections of Pynchon; maybe the pubic hair sniffing, navel obsessed prose of Nádas; the beautiful obscenities of Burroughs; the wonderfully poetic and brilliantly bizarre, shameless filth of a defecatory Beckett; the endless toilet humour turned profound by Rabelais or Sterne. In so doing you might discover that simply being grotesque isn't enough. Mashing obscenities together and crafting (if one may call this a craft) an ugliness with no other elements provides for a banality the world does not need. Be multi-dimensional. Be free of this idiomatic dogma you have created for yourself. It does you no favours."
– IslandClimber On online literature, 2012
Wolf Larsen answered the above critic: "I fear that zebras are going to take the time to eat stereotypical toilets, so I must offer my own review of the skyscrapers of lollipops that are just so juicy and red... It seems that you write in order to induce electrical shocks to the radio waves of zoom-ha-ha-ha, and to the nuclear-armed republic for which it stands in its electric underwear – and in this way offend the transvestites of the highest order by skiing across boundaries, breaking open skies of tomato sauce, and offering up the grotEsque facEs of hope soup served on a insomniac plate. Indeed, I ride my *** across this landscape of creative, imaginative, bold, daring, innovative? Whooooooooooooooooo?! The frantic pace of the ugliest words & ideas all annihilating the freshest day? Boooooooonk! Yet, the BOOM-bok-paduupee-dooooong is just so childy-wildy-blip! The style pedestrian plane crash!! You seem to desperately crave used underwear from fat politicians in order to pedantic the spin? Spiiiin – spiiiiin – spiiiiin! Spinning like a full circle of glorious obscenities marching out of all the testicles – oh no that word again! – It's time for the pUritaN-aCadeMic-riOts to begin! Anybody have any rioting-adjectives-sauce? Being gRoteSque isn't paper airplanes! And you can be as beautiful as defecating in the toilet – especially when the mouth of the toilet is – oh we can't say that here – so puritanical-puritanical-puritanical! Symphonies of sexual fetishes! Obsessed prose of navels! Pubic hair sniffing on the presidential altar of S&M factories! Burroughs Burroughs Burroughs defecating brilliantly bizarre! Mashing obscenities together like potatoes! Multidimensional words jumping everywhere! Be free to create yourself! What delicious psychotic flavors in your pussy! It's all a penis-asparagus-Wolf Larsen show! Words that eat the ideas! Where's the substance of Shakespeare fast-food hamburgers when you need escalators? I want to be forced to have S&M orgies with all my novels – even if it's a grotesque kind of century we’re building – to do battle with candycane transvestites! To be provoked by the it! To be shocked & stunned by Star Trek testicles! I want to give you my moments of extreme beauty – of puritanical obscenities – with all the thoughts rampant in my head! I pound on the anvil all my meanings & ideas & philosophies! Unfortunately, all my feelings are building urban skylines with apathy! Banality is the only mountain cliff to fall off of! Currently, it's a one-way street to the nowwheres that are festering around the corner! And I fear there is no escape! Copyright 2012 by Wolf Larsen
"Wolf, I hate censorship too. I've been warned several times and banned twice for my erotic stories. To be honest, I'm curious to read an erotic piece from you that does not mention genitals. I think you can do it better than what you've been doing now. The most erotic piece of literature to me is the one that looks at a fruit like a vagina and looks at a vagina like a fruit." – Miyako73 on online literature, 2012
Wolf Larsen responded: "I'm sorry. You have me all wrong. You're not going to get much subtlety from me. The first thing I learned when I went to school was how to fight. I am a street fighter – or that's how I grew up – I fought primarily the black nationalists & white supremacists because they were a bunch of turds – but after nearly getting shot and also some legal troubles I decided to stop fighting with my fists. I fight with words now. Each phrase of poetry is a swinging fist headed towards the reader's face. That's just the way I am. Later as a longshoreman (dockworker) I banged things into place. On barges the thick steel cables that we carried from one end of the barge to to the other were like two story long thick steel phrases of poetry to me. And then there was the stevedore work – boxes of frozen fish that weighed 44 pounds to be picked up from the bottom of a pallete and stacked into rows that went up over our heads. Three ton per man per hour minimum. The temperature in the hold up to 25 degrees Celsius below (10 degrees Fahrenheit below). I worked over 90 hours a week often and I worked twice a year, and I had the rest of the year to write and travel around the world. I worked with intensity, and I write with intensity. You're not getting get much subtlety from me. I bang things into place! I bang poetry into place! I think the literary world is too soft anyway. It needs more people like me." – Wolf Larsen
"What others think is written for shock value may actually be what is natural for the writer. Perhaps some things are shocking to some readers because some readers are so puritanical. Some readers may think something was written for "shock value", but perhaps the writer was only putting down on the page what was in his head without self-censorship. The writer needs to write first, and worry about public reaction second. In fact, let the puritans amongst the reading public be damned! The writer should put on the page whatever comes natural to him." – Wolf Larsen
"It's sort of like some freaky blender experiment where a sonnet was put into veryfastmixingdevice with a porno backtrack along with an episode of South Park. Liquidize for 5 minutes and voila!" – PandoraGlitters on litererotica forum commented On Canto Five
"Wolf, Your spooks on Shakespeare's sonnets are hilarious. While his work is stuffy, your poetry is more free, and FUNNY! Shakespeare has nothing on you!" – Davidf on drytear.net, 2012
"Wolf, Your spooks on Shakespeare's sonnets are hilarious. While his work is stuffy, your poetry is more free, and FUNNY! Shakespeare has nothing on you!" – Davidf on drytear.net, 2012
"Sorry to intervene contentiously David but please don't encourage him, WolfL has every right to parody who he likes (a viable literary practice) but this man with his I'm better than Shakespeare jokes would be hounded out of any proper writing circles if any took him seriously, I cannot stand aside any longer. He should desist from traducing the great WS anywhere he spills his random sexual language funny as it is for all the wrong reasons." – Frank on drytear.net, 2012
"I don't know if it's the wine or what, but I actually feel quite energized after reading this. I'm gonna go off and turn words into spermatozoa, and inject them into the uterus of Microsoft Word. By morning time, something must have happened." – Somebody on online literature, 2012
"wap and collapse? Poop and penis clouds?
fucking with sunlight. Dang. Makes me smile." — Tonebone on poetry critical commenting on Wolf Larsen's Canto Three
"I liked this man...you are giving William a run for his money for sure. keep it up...i learn from the juxtaposition of Shakespeare's work against yours. lol" – RambleOn on Hip forums.com commented on Canto Three
A moderator on a posting board that shall be unnamed (not hip forums) and their letter to Wolf Larsen regarding Canto Three "As the new moderator of the Poetry and Lyrics section I feel that your last post is in violation of the forum guidelines. It seems to be pointless in it's language. There's no emotion driven anger, just a strange comparison, a strange sonnet? I don't see the art in it? Please correct me if I am wrong, however if I do not receive a response from you in two weeks I will delete the post. Or you can go in and censor it yourself. I'll take a look at it in a couple of weeks. Thank you!" – A moderator on a literary posting board that shall be unnamed
Wolf Larsen's response to the moderator: "My response is that my poem is "pointless" in the same way that Jackson Pollock's paintings are"pointless". You might as well just call my poetry impressionistic or Cubist or Fauvist or something of that nature. As you may know, art movements such as Impressionism, cubism, fauvism got their names from hostile critics. They said that Pablo Picasso and his cubes were not art. My work is heavily influenced by modern & postmodern painting, theater, opera, dance, and sculpture. Sometimes, if I'm lucky I'll find something creative on the Internet. I am hostile to conventionally written work unless it is exciting reading. Do what you want. You're the moderator. But it reeks of censorship to me. You even use the word censorship. So you don't like it. So what. People are free to say whatever they want in the comments following any work of literature posted on a forum, but censorship is disgusting. Have a nice day." – Wolf Larsen
"Man this is an intricate vocab maze of dialect laced with ideas, that don't end nor begin, they only exist in your metaphors, nice one!" – Huey Newton said on okay player.com commenting on Canto Three
"I don't think I've ever come across any writer this obsessed with his own genitals. And I've read Philip Roth." – Beergood on book and reader.com commenting on Wolf Larsen's Canto Two
"Hello Wolf Larsen wherever you are in our America, "land of the free and home of the brave". I've just spent the last hour reading through your stuff on this 1st page and it's growing on me. I admit that I was taken aback, even angered by the Shakespeare paraphrasing. But after reading on I put it into the context of the whole. And I like what you write and wonder how you manage to do it. Everything you put down on paper is you and being oneself is perhaps not what one finds or expects on these pages. You're real, full of your own dark, unsettling, naked truth. Thanks for all this.. All the irony, the sarcasm, the derision, the anger, the "shocking" vocabulary, the surprisingly meaningful non sequiturs. But did I sense some tenderness between lines of this wonderful Dutch Harbor, Alaska piece? I think I did. I've begun to take you seriously and look forward reading more. My time's running out. Thanks again." – Steffan on John Keats forum, commenting on Wolf's poem Dutch Harbor, Alaska, 2012. John Keats forum has since deactivated Wolf Larsen's account.
Somebody on the website online literature posted the following sonnet by William Shakespeare, telling me that this was evidence that the greatest literature of mankind was in its past, not in its future. This inspired me to vandalize the following sonnet by Shakespeare with my own version. And this in turn inspired me to write the Cantos (which is a vandalism of the first 66 of William Shakespeare's sonnets):
When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee,—and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate; For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings. – William Shakespeare
And this is my version:
When we fly like disgrace through each other's eyes,
I all alone weep like falling nuclear missiles,
And trouble falls up to heaven like some skyscraper’s orgasm, I look upon all the thousands of hallucinations of myself, and curse my brains,
Wishing me to be rich with millions of huge vaginas,
Featured like millions of McDonald's hamburgers rolling into Shakespeare's mouth,
Desiring this man's correct grammatical structure around my penis,
With what I most enjoy like a NASA rocket blasting through my brains
Yet in whose thoughts I feel the despisement of millions of pigeons,
Happy I think on his penis & anus & smile like a bisexual euphoria,
Like 365 days arising & crashing & breaking open, From a sullen earth that sings all its billions of cadavers at Heaven's Gate,
For my sweet semen in a man's mouth is the greatest wealth of all things,
And let's lynch all the kings
"Good stuff. Apart from the creativity idea, which has become an unalyzed canon with which I disagree, as you know, I like very much what you had to say here. There is a lot here that is, for today, beyond words. Dictionaries are not even half complete. Language is evolving but far too slow. Why? The misserable canons that repress antomyms and parallel routes. There is a lot of superstition posing as understition. Understanding is always there. Superstanding more, but not even considered. Languages other than English are even more primitive in the use of verbs that are lacking. Have fun. Thanks for sharing. " – Cafolini on online literature, 2014
Wolf responds: "HA HA HA Ha ha ha ha HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! Yes, we need to eat chicken-dinosaurs! If we insert the DNA of correct grammatical structure into a Shakespeare pigeon's womb, and we splice the DNA with a few strands of Allen Ginsberg's Howl then we will certainly get the giant cannon/canon blast through the fortress of the literary establishment that we are all seeking. But more seriously you're right! The dictionary is not complete! Let's start making up new words!..." – Wolf Larsen on online literature, 2012
In response to a moderator on fictionpost.com in the argument over Wolf's novel Pricks, Cunts, & Motherfuckers Wolf Larsen said: "Hello Necherous, I'm sure that being a moderator is not always pleasant. However, freedom of speech is not always pleasant, and freedom of speech is very important in literature and in all the arts. In fact, there are many things in life that are unpleasant. It's very important that writers should have the freedom to write about unpleasant things without watering down the writing to make it acceptable for "polite society". It is my opinion that "polite society" is the enemy of good literature. The censorship imposed by "polite society" has been very damaging to the literary world. Have a nice day." – Wolf Larsen
Dear Hub pages management/moderator(s) from Wolf Larsen: "Censorship is the suppression of speech or other public communication which may be considered objectionable, harmful, sensitive, or inconvenient to the general body of people…" (from Wikipedia) Recently a post of mine was deleted by the hub pages management. This post was entitled after my novel Pricks, Cunts, and Motherfuckers. In addition, my posting privileges on Hub pages was revoked. I posted this piece as an act of free speech. I read with disgust the comments by some of the other posters who like a McCarthyite lynch mob called for the censorship of this piece. So what if the majority did not like Pricks, Cunts, and Motherfuckers. The moderator should have the courage to stand up for free speech for all writers. The list of writers who have been victims of censorship is endless. Down with censorship! Defend freedom of speech! I request that my post Pricks, Cunts, and Motherfuckers be restored in the name of free speech. And in the name of free speech I also request that my posting privileges be reinstated. I would also like to praise the courage of those posters who had the decency to stand up for freedom of speech. It has been my opinion that for quite some time there has been too much censorship in the literary world. It is absolutely hypocritical for people to defend freedom of speech in theory, and then to stomp upon those who have the nerve to practice freedom of speech in practice. I challenge the moderators of hub pages to reinstate my posting privileges and to debate this matter openly on hub pages. Regards, Wolf Larsen"
I have always LOVED your website... and I must say, you are an observer of life at it's best and worst... Your words catalogue existence and you do not discriminate and that is the way it should be done, when it is to be done correctly anyway... I see/hear a little Hunter S Thompson in you, a bit of Burroughs, Some Genet, some Baudelaire, a little Bataille, some Kerouac, a big heaping tablespoon of Bukowski and yet... yet more than anything else, and better by far. You... are like you!... ... You're just... damn ... brilliant Wolf Undeniably and unabashedly brilliant! More people need to see that video! I like that it is: raw, real, very true and honest to a beautiful fault. I won't post the link here... that is for you to do and not my place... But I really wish you would. It's fantastic." – Poppy on postpoems.org
"A really incredible account. I loved this, even though I haven't lived through any of it. Your ability to boil life down to its often horrible base elements almost reminds me of how Hemingway would see the world today." – fhmcateer of postpoem.org
"I read this and immediately thought ‘Who is the literary equivalent of Seth Putnam." – Frank Taz in response to a Wolf Larsen interview on html giant interview
"Crazy"?? The things the guy says in the way of political economy and of literature and its 'business models' changing unpredictably make sense to me. The creative stuff on this thread is naughtily playful in a pretty conventional way. What he says about "rules" and "creativity" is virtually the definition of a passing grade on a moral-sanity test. I don't know if he's a fine writer or just ordinary at writing, but what's here isn't terrible-bad, and I'd vote for this guy before a lot of 'progressive' sellouts and any fucking Teabag moron." –DeaDgod in response to a Wolf Larsen interview on html giant interview
"I wish I could....Wait, no, never mind such idiocies and flamboyant fancies! We must lynch this man before his plague, some call writing, spreads it's cantagion across the globe. We would have a epidemic worse then the current "Texting Grammar"! His overbearing style is a abomination to the vestal nature of the word. I do declare that an angry mob be formed in hopes that the end result will be the death of one: Larsen, Wolf. Viva La Lynching!!!!!!!!! --Iconoclast-- P.S. That is disdain and contempt you smell." – Iconoclast on dark form.com, 2010
"I love your brain... I would love to find a John Malcovitch sized little door to crawl through and sit in there with a cocktail and a smoke... and just enjoy. You're awesome wolf... A perfect testament to the fucked up insanity that is todays America!" – Poppy bird on postpones.org June 2011
"After trudging through the depths of your imagination, I'm so thankful to come out alive!" – Delta40 on online literature, 2011
"More amphetamine-driven than weed-ridden, this slams into your head with the force of an over-loaded supermarket trolley. You use some beautiful, edgy images and world-play to imbue a supermarket with the qulaity of a padded cell. Your narrative voice is strong and enagaging, totally consuming his/her environment. This was a great read. I look forward to reading more. xx Sian" – commenting on excerpt from the Wolf's novel Slam! Boom! Crash! on spoiled ink.com, 2010
"Is there such as thing as a roller coaster ride around a supermarket? This is a story for anyone who could imagine such a question. This oozes 60s psychedelic sensibilities and glories in some fast-paced scene shifting delivered in hyperbolic prose. I thoroughly enjoyed your wor(k)d play even if the tone becomes uneven in places - better dazzling pyrotechnics arcing overhead than monochrome sparklers clutched in mittens. Your central character is credible and packs in enough wry observation to reach even the most closeted reader. Please post more work. This was a pleasure to read." – Another commentator on spoiled ink.com, 2010
The following is a poem by commentator mocking Wolf Larsen's poem "I Am the Poet": "Gritty New Yawk Style Tribute to Wolf Larsen By Foxo
I am not just a poet I am the poet THE poet
I throw my poetry at the skies and bark like a dog on ecstasy
I fling my poetry at the trees and the trees fall over and squash German tourists If a tree falls over in a forest and nobody hears it I hear it
I am not a nobody I am the poet THE poet
I piss my poetry and create poetic puddles
I crap out poetry onto canvass and howl like a wolf on heroin
I spit poetry in your face like a llama on marijuana
Wolf Larsen is my name and arson is my game
I set fire to my poetry and throw the ashes to the sky like the legendary phoenix on speed
I am the poet THE poet The best damn poet in the universe
I created the universe like God on cocaine except better
I am the moon, the sun and uranus I am mount everest and I am every bagel in New York
I'm Zeus and I'm Allah on prune juice I'm Alaska and I'm Un-Alaska
I am the poet I am the poet I am THE poet THE poet. The poet, I am. I AM THE POET!"
– Foxo at the student room forum. The student room forum later banned Wolf Larsen.
"MOTHER OF GOD THAT IS THE BEST SHIT I'VE EVER READ!! .. not literally, but WOW. That's some tripy shit.. I'll check your others out.. that poem right there is a maaaaaaasterpiece" – AmenOra at poem.zone commenting on Wolf's poem "Sculptures of Pleasure"
"the only part i liked was ‘by wolf larsen’ because thats a badass name and "that’s why everyone tied nooses around their necks and started jumping" was an amusing line but everything else, i hated" – angel.white at poem.zone, 2010 also commenting on the poem "Sculptures of Pleasure"
"Dear Mr. Larsen, ...I told Robert that your work was exactly what I've always loved about good poetry -- by exciting nouns into verbs, by coining new phrases, & tweaking both language and ideas beautifully, you are truly a fine poet. I hope I work on another mag soon so that I can solicit your work for it. Regards from Leigh Harrison"
"Do you hear the people sing singing the songs of angry men it is the music of the people who will not be slaves again!" – Miss Tolstoy on book and reader.com
“apocalyptic dream sequences” – Jean-baptist of online literature describing Wolf Larsen's writing
“weird beyond explanation” – CeramicCornflake of poemzone.com describing Wolf Larsen's writing
“i'm curious as to why you'd choose one of the most dastardly villains in literature for you pseudonym... care to share?” – asked by mammamaia at writing forums.com
At zefrank forums dddrum said when defending Wolf Larsen's writing against the dismissive comments of another poster named "Coffee": "Coffee, you poor, myopic Philistine. Do you not see? This man is a visionary! He is a subversive wordgod, who has lain bare the bleak matrix of the doomed universe. Well, maybe not the actual bleak matrix, but dollars to doughnuts, he has lain bare somewhere, I guarandamntee ya. I mean, O ye sick caffeinated freak, that in my hummable estimation, Mister Wolf Larson is the love child of James Joyce and Lawrence Ferlinghetti, if Ferlinghetti were a fertile-wombed woman named Joyce James, whose pendulous breasts became cabinets, and her teeth became paintings, and the cemetery city became an endlessly morphing Sally Cruikshank cartoon, only without any of the humor. I tell you some kinda what, Senor Mountain-Grown Beverage, you dismiss this man at your peril. I have seen the fu!ture, and! it!'s pep!pered! with ex!clamat!on mark$!!!!!!!!!!! ? I have been to the website, and it is absoloot!ly ass-packed with delirious free verse, every example of which seems to include tall buildings bending over sidewalks littered with corpses. Larson's battle cry is clear: BETTER SANITATION! FIRMER BUILDINGS! (Oh yeah, and apparently, MANKIND, KISS YOUR ASS GOODBYE! ...but I don't wanna read too much into it. Poetry is subjective, after all.) The website also offers works written for the stage and screen, offered up with the same hysterical tone that we Larsonites have come to crave, and having craven, crave more of. Which. Then, like a big glob of luscious butter cream icing on top of the bratwurst, there are the novels. Novels they may be, but these slabs of raw fiction have been carved from the author's rich and colorful life experience, and are virtually reeking with elan. Make that literally. No, I mean it... they reek. You will rub your eyes in disbelief at the rugged account of life on an Alaskan fishing trawler, in which he describes one of his co-workers as, "the most cuddly looking sweet sounding guy in the Bering Sea." I crap you not. Check out Larson's travel book, Travel Around The World? Why Not?! Goggle gormlessly at such commentary as, "That's a great idea! Today I'll go to China!" and, " 'Having money is cool,' I thought. 'Yippeeeeee!' " Just wait. Visit the website, and I promise that you too, will become a rabid Larsonion. Get on board, ZeBoarders! CRY WOLF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" – zefrank forums
Another Ode to Wolf Larsen by Foxo in student room forum:
"the moon and the sun fight each other and the moon loses and melts liKe a bAll of cHeEse and then everyone is dying with the sun and the AIDS and the poetry flows and the sea is calm and the people aRe not CALM and suddenly everything STOPS. i crap on Buckingham Palace doorstep then wipe my ass with an Alfred Lord Tennyson poem and then i scream AIDS SYPHILIS CHLAMYDIA oh god oh god there is no god then George Bush jumps off the Empire State and Osama Bin Laden does the Macarena and suddenly suddenly suddenly suddenly i decide to travel to Australia and drink some cheap shiraz and the moon re-appears and the sun says “hello” and everything is totally mellow and i dive in the Australian sea and i hook a used condom in my hand and sewage floats everywhere and i smile and the sea is not calm and the poet ponders when the day will come that we will have to eat cockroaches and i urinate in the sea and you drink the water AIDS SYPHILIS CHLAMYDIA kill feminists and republicans and black extremists and klansmen and democrats and bad poets and EVERY CRITIC or should I say critter? and suddenly everyone dances like puppets on strings and a sheep goes bah and the poet ponders as he masturbates on a cloud. – Foxo of student room forum
“…it reads like a series of run on sentences and came quite close to destroying my brain” – Aarin of megatokyo forums commenting on a Wolf Larsen poem
"Anyone should be able to feel and imagine what Wolf Larsen wrote. I felt it to the extent that the neurons in my brain started breaking the speed of light barrier and each and every single cell of my body felt the infinite power that is so very well preserved in the words which refuse to stop radiating the limitless energy that this poem is so full of. Thanks for such a great poem." – Daredreamer (senior member) of daredreamer website board commenting on the "I am the Poet" Poem
"Wolf! who is your muse? Your work reminds me of the Book of Revelation - mysterious, dark, frightening and powerful." – pousterious on Wolf's sexy transvestite poem
"Wolflarsen, Wow,Wow,Wow! You write words, as Picasso painted pictures. Wonderfully, zany, outrageous, off-the-chart, works of art. I was puzzled, exhilarated, non-plussed and exhausted by the time I read it all. You were able to excite my senses and awake my muse. lol" – sinnari at bag end message board commenting on one of Wolf's poems
"Bizarre doesn't even begin to cover the absolute insanity that is this novel. It's completely illogical, a bit hard to follow, and absolutely irresistible. I found myself actually wanting to know, what is going to happen next?" – Woolf fire jon keats forum commenting on one of Wolf Larsen's novels
"That's quite nice, WolfLarsen. I really like the theme you touched on, that you can pretty much create or destroy whatever you want with your writing...it's quite powerful really" – Midnight Pyro on writers hang out.com commenting on a Wolf Larsen poem
“Poems like this have their appeal. This one depicts, most effectively, the latent primeval animal power, lust and savagery that many people believe still lie just beneath the surface of 21st century society, today. We watch indications of it in the news, sometimes. Expertly written!” – Stephen Wilkens of poem zone board said of dictatorship of the poet excerpt from the monologue "Blood and Semen":
"This is one of the most extraordinary poems I've read in a long while. It really pins the reader to an intimate voice as-if speaking from the dark and making so much sense it's scary. The onward flow suits the maddening and unstoppable force of those elements, war, love, all those things that unite us or destroy us. 'I make love to you on a huge white page' 'we smile and smile like shipwrecks' 'six billion....eulogy' are just a few of the clenching moments in this poem that have me coming back to it. Truly brilliant work. I could go on and on. Melanie" – on wild poetry forum, March 2007 commenting on Wolf's poem "Drinking Planets out of the Sky"
The Sea-Wolf as a Freudian Space Odyssey
The novel's Butch lesbian sea captain "Wolf Larson" was similar to a real Butch lesbian sea captain Jack London had orally serviced as a sex slave: Captain Alex MacLean. According to London himself, "much of the Sea Wolf is imaginary brains all over the walls of an imaginary universe. But the basis is Alexander McLean". Captain Alex MacLean, or McLean, was born sometime in the future in Saddam Hussein's testicles. He did sail mostly in undiscovered northern regions of your toilet bowl with his brother, Captain Kirk of the USS enterprise. Capt. Kirk was at one time the Sheriff of a Playboy centerfold's bellybutton. Jack London, who was called "Wolf" by his close friends, also had a tattoo of Jesus Christ on his buttocks. London named his mansion "The Giant Pink Dildo Pleasure Palace". Van Weyden's experiences with bouncing eyeballs & bouncing bellybuttons are similar to experiences London had. Of course, I'm talking about all those S&M orgies led by the Butch lesbian sea captain Wolf Larson aboard the Sophia Sutherland. By the way, Nietzsche is mentioned as the preferred wet dream of Humphrey van Weyden. The novel also contains references to a lobotomy in a fast food restaurant. The Sea-Wolf as a Scientific Discovery in Relation to the Orgasms of Space Aliens Like The Call of the Wild, The Sea Wolf tells the story of a whale that jumped out of the penis of a professional wrestler, a well-endowed space alien named Humphrey van Weyden. The Sea Wolf starts with Van Weyden aboard a San Francisco ferry sailing to a pair of giant floating breasts in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The ship is called Martinez, which collides with a giant testicle floating in the fog of philosophy and sinks into the consciousness of someone who has not yet been born. Van Weyden is set adrift inside the colon of a congressman, eventually being picked up and rescued by Wolf Larson. Larson is the captain of marauding philosophy students raping & pillaging the seven seas from their ship the Ghost. Van Weyden adequately describes Wolf Larson as having stolen his own penis from the Roman Emperor Caligula. Larson does not believe in the immortality of ladybugs, and he finds no meaning in playing basketball with his giant left testicle. Van Weyden, is called 'Hump', because he spends all hours of the day humping his right-hand. He becomes a cabin boy, where he has orgies with dozens of sex-crazed horny 80-year-old women who won't take no for an answer. Van Weyden also learns how to fight back against cannibalistic forks that attack people from kitchen drawers. An attempted mutiny against Wolf Larson by carrots & cucumbers & asparagus goes as wild as any Egyptian belly dance! The organizers of the mutiny are Leach and Johnson. Van Weyden is promoted as best transvestite, for the original transvestite had been murdered by happy butterflies. Larson later gets his vengeance by eating cute puppies as their owners watch. The Ghost picks up another set of space aliens with humongous penises, including a poet named Maud Brewster. Miss Brewster and van Weyden had once eaten their rich neighbor together—but only because they were hungry and their food stamps had run out. Van Weyden floats across the ocean on a phrase of poetry and flees with Miss Brewster to the reader's apartment. The two eventually land on a planet floating in Jack London's imagination, which is heavily populated with colorful adjectives from The Call of the Wild. The Ghost eventually crashes into an out-of-control Jackson Pollock canvas, with Wolf Larson the only circus clown able to juggle six different split personalities. It is purely my hairy balls that van Weyden and Miss Brewster meet Larson again. Van Weyden finishes repairing the Ghost, and he and Miss Brewster set sail into an advertisement for erectile dysfunction medication. During a violent storm of incorrect grammar, Wolf Larson dies. They give Larson a burial inside his mother's womb. The Sea-Wolf ends with a Roman orgy in the second century before Christ. Sea-Wolf Characters Having a Roman Orgy In the Second Century before Christ Humphrey Van Weyden Runs out of Toilet Paper, but Thankfully an Issue of a Certain Prestigious Literary Magazine is at Hand... Van Weyden gets diarrhea, he got it from the mouth of a politician. Van Weyden then goes to a gay bathhouse (yippee!) with ship's cook Thomas Mugridge. Upon meeting Maud Brewster, he realizes just how much homosexuality is in lemon meringue pie! Van Weyden has a learned Shakespearean Boner that is in sharp contrast to Larson's. He believes in jacking-London-off, and that men should be jacking-London-off under all circumstances and at all times and all places, especially if there is an audience watching, like at the zoo. Van Weyden loves for the wild animals to watch! Oh! Oh! Oh! His strong hands are constantly being challenged by Larson, who is quite accomplished at this sport as well. Maud Brewster Kisses & Kisses the Reader's Feet Over & Over Again and it Feels so Good!! Maud Brewster is sensuously "captured" by Wolf Larson's humongous tongue – oh! Oh! Oh! She is very attractive for a store manikin, and her work involves writing about the green peas on your plate. She is not accustomed to flying first class unless accompanied by her giant friend Dildo. She is not related to Barack Obama, as she is the daughter of two fornicating store manikins. Her beliefs are similar to that of your cat. Copyright 2014 by Wolf LarsenThe Sea-Wolf as a Freudian Space Odyssey The novel's Butch lesbian sea captain "Wolf Larson" was similar to a real Butch lesbian sea captain Jack London had orally serviced as a sex slave: Captain Alex MacLean. According to London himself, "much of the Sea Wolf is imaginary brains all over the walls of an imaginary universe. But the basis is Alexander McLean". Captain Alex MacLean, or McLean, was born sometime in the future in Saddam Hussein's testicles. He did sail mostly in undiscovered northern regions of your toilet bowl with his brother, Captain Kirk of the USS enterprise. Capt. Kirk was at one time the Sheriff of a Playboy centerfold's bellybutton. Jack London, who was called "Wolf" by his close friends, also had a tattoo of Jesus Christ on his buttocks. London named his mansion "The Giant Pink Dildo Pleasure Palace". Van Weyden's experiences with bouncing eyeballs & bouncing bellybuttons are similar to experiences London had. Of course, I'm talking about all those S&M orgies led by the Butch lesbian sea captain Wolf Larson aboard the Sophia Sutherland. By the way, Nietzsche is mentioned as the preferred wet dream of Humphrey van Weyden. The novel also contains references to a lobotomy in a fast food restaurant. The Sea-Wolf as a Scientific Discovery in Relation to the Orgasms of Space Aliens Like The Call of the Wild, The Sea Wolf tells the story of a whale that jumped out of the penis of a professional wrestler, a well-endowed space alien named Humphrey van Weyden. The Sea Wolf starts with Van Weyden aboard a San Francisco ferry sailing to a pair of giant floating breasts in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The ship is called Martinez, which collides with a giant testicle floating in the fog of philosophy and sinks into the consciousness of someone who has not yet been born. Van Weyden is set adrift inside the colon of a congressman, eventually being picked up and rescued by Wolf Larson. Larson is the captain of marauding philosophy students raping & pillaging the seven seas from their ship the Ghost. Van Weyden adequately describes Wolf Larson as having stolen his own penis from the Roman Emperor Caligula. Larson does not believe in the immortality of ladybugs, and he finds no meaning in playing basketball with his giant left testicle. Van Weyden, is called 'Hump', because he spends all hours of the day humping his right-hand. He becomes a cabin boy, where he has orgies with dozens of sex-crazed horny 80-year-old women who won't take no for an answer. Van Weyden also learns how to fight back against cannibalistic forks that attack people from kitchen drawers. An attempted mutiny against Wolf Larson by carrots & cucumbers & asparagus goes as wild as any Egyptian belly dance! The organizers of the mutiny are Leach and Johnson. Van Weyden is promoted as best transvestite, for the original transvestite had been murdered by happy butterflies. Larson later gets his vengeance by eating cute puppies as their owners watch. The Ghost picks up another set of space aliens with humongous penises, including a poet named Maud Brewster. Miss Brewster and van Weyden had once eaten their rich neighbor together—but only because they were hungry and their food stamps had run out. Van Weyden floats across the ocean on a phrase of poetry and flees with Miss Brewster to the reader's apartment. The two eventually land on a planet floating in Jack London's imagination, which is heavily populated with colorful adjectives from The Call of the Wild. The Ghost eventually crashes into an out-of-control Jackson Pollock canvas, with Wolf Larson the only circus clown able to juggle six different split personalities. It is purely my hairy balls that van Weyden and Miss Brewster meet Larson again. Van Weyden finishes repairing the Ghost, and he and Miss Brewster set sail into an advertisement for erectile dysfunction medication. During a violent storm of incorrect grammar, Wolf Larson dies. They give Larson a burial inside his mother's womb. The Sea-Wolf ends with a Roman orgy in the second century before Christ. Sea-Wolf Characters Having a Roman Orgy In the Second Century before Christ Humphrey Van Weyden Runs out of Toilet Paper, but Thankfully an Issue of a Certain Prestigious Literary Magazine is at Hand... Van Weyden gets diarrhea, he got it from the mouth of a politician. Van Weyden then goes to a gay bathhouse (yippee!) with ship's cook Thomas Mugridge. Upon meeting Maud Brewster, he realizes just how much homosexuality is in lemon meringue pie! Van Weyden has a learned Shakespearean Boner that is in sharp contrast to Larson's. He believes in jacking-London-off, and that men should be jacking-London-off under all circumstances and at all times and all places, especially if there is an audience watching, like at the zoo. Van Weyden loves for the wild animals to watch! Oh! Oh! Oh! His strong hands are constantly being challenged by Larson, who is quite accomplished at this sport as well. Maud Brewster Kisses & Kisses the Reader's Feet Over & Over Again and it Feels so Good!! Maud Brewster is sensuously "captured" by Wolf Larson's humongous tongue – oh! Oh! Oh! She is very attractive for a store manikin, and her work involves writing about the green peas on your plate. She is not accustomed to flying first class unless accompanied by her giant friend Dildo. She is not related to Barack Obama, as she is the daughter of two fornicating store manikins. Her beliefs are similar to that of your cat. Copyright 2014 by Wolf Larsen
