Another sexual health poem.

“I just want you to tell me how it works,
A woman’s tuppy. You know what I mean
What’s in there, and how does she keep it clean?
What hidden danger in the hoo-hah lurks?

I’ve always wondered, and I’ll never know
Because I’m pretty certain that I’m gay.
And you’re a married lesbian, so hey!
You’ll know about a lady’s down-below

How can it stretch to let a baby out?
Why is it only some of them are hairy?
And are they all the same, or do they vary?
I don’t want to be left in any doubt.”

From this young scholar all of us should take
Our cue: Seek knowledge for its own sweet sake.

A Sonnet

Just a change of pace from all the sestinas...
Based on an anecdote I heard from a sexual health outreach worker.

The lad comes in. He’s got a worried frown.
“This girl: I’ve not been with her all that long
I know what breasts should look like, hers are wrong.
They go all floppy when she’s lying down!

She says I’m being daft. And now she’s got
The face on. Thinks she dun’t give me the horn.
She’s fitter than the girls I watch in porn
But if their boobs are normal, hers are not.”

I’m trying not to laugh. I reassure
Him that his girlfriend’s absolutely fine
And that perhaps this panic is a sign
That he needs to get out a little more.

And though those porno girls are really foxy
They shouldn’t cause low self esteem by proxy!

My (least) Favourite Words

Old one, this. I'm sure I've put this out there before, but I can't find it. So in response to a twitter question about favourite words from Oliver (@inkwrite), voila!

3: Verbal Abuse
I’m what is often called a Linguaphile
Delicious words - like that one - make me smile
Their schwas and plosives music to my ears
Their haunting diphthongs moving me to tears
 
Festoon, Contagion, Trenchant, Stalagmite
The meaning’s meaningless. They just sound… right
But there are also words that I abhor
Incentivise, Hydrangea, Slate, Galore.


My hatred is irrational, unjust
So overcome my bigotry I must!
It’s never pleasant to discriminate
I’ll try to curb and overcome my hate.


But there’s no help for such a hopeless case
If only it were gender, age, or race
Oh, find a self-help group for me to join
And help me learn to love Abode and Groin!


Alas, it’s far too late for me to change
I can’t accept Indebted, Awkward, Mange,
So now I say it, loud and with impunity:
My poetry’s not equal opportunity.