In the dark, the girl’s innocent chum
Misdirected his dick up her bum.
Being told gently so,
The lad piped, “Penis? No!
This is how I’ve stopped sucking my thumb!”
“‘Cat,'” he said at the bar. “Really. Is
That for Katherine, Miss? — Mrs.? Uh . . . Ms.?”
She blinked blankly at him,
Lifted one lazy limb,
Licked her privates, and trod upon his.
A young man who fucks knotholes in trees
Says revenge is his reason, and he’s
Had relations with shrubs
Since the best garden clubs
Snubbed his purple and pink peonies.
Be he victim or vandal or sleaze,
He ignores Pete the Park Ranger’s pleas:
Not to put on a condom,
Pete says, is beyond him
These days what with Dutch Elm Disease.
She did not date in Early Cretaceous,
Being spiky, cold-blooded, pugnacious;
And then how many males
Go for vulva with scales
And vaginas so clammy and spacious?
These poems first ran on NERVE in 2001.