Boys, Even the Poets, Become Men
When boys at school grow up, they go away
And do the stupid things that boy-men do.
They go do bed with women, or if gay,
The boys make love while using cum as glue
With other men, and if they’re young enough,
These other males, they use them as their toys.
Sometimes there’s love. Sometimes the love is gruff.
If love like this is rough enough, there’s noise
Obscene to frighten horses in their stalls.
There’s poetry sometimes, if rhyming pole
Goes deep and hard enough for slapping balls
That try to cram themselves inside the hole.
Both Denham and brown Taatamata felt
Poetic beats from Rupert’s pubic pelt.
~ Phillip Whidden