The Battle Of The Bulge.
an ode to a young man who once was me...... entering puberty
What is this
persistent stiff,
holding parties
in my pants,
whenever thoughts
of girls in general
overwhelm me in
the ungodliest places,
cafeterias, or the gym...
where my jocular
face tries to hide
the rising space
of my jock.
Its timing is
ri-dick-ulous,
Thank God for
school books
when I'm getting
off the bus,
after a forty
minute ride
behind Susie
the buxom blond
whom I crave
with a passion
displayed all too amply
in my nether regions.
Even in church
when I genuflect,
after the hint
of a plaid skirt,
creeps over
moral boundaries
two pews and
an eternity away,
causing me to kneel
with much difficulty,
and to add
extra confessions
to my weekly cleansing.
I wake up
with a handle,
like leftover luggage
at the airport,
and it's plane to see,
that I am beginning
a journey to manhood.
But what do I do
in the interim,
when taking matters
into my own hand
is beyond any
realm of possibilities
as the teacher
drones on about
premature ejaculation
in my Sex Ed class.
©-MFB III