An Ode to a Penis

Sitting here again
Another day, another breathe
Another beer, another deadline
Thinking
Drinking
Smoking
My somber thoughts beacon me
Wishing that I could just simply exist,
Free from bills, rent and bar tabs.

Why do I waste my time,
Thinking of you?
I hate you. I let you permeate
my conscious thoughts.

You are nothing more than a consumer
Of space and resources.

I wish for loneliness, I got it.
It is amazing how an orgasm can
Breathe new life into days.
Great Holy Orgasms.
But orgasms alone aren’t much fun.
That’s why I still get dressed
And shower each day.

Looking for the prophetic truth
In your thrusting cock.
I love it. Cock.
Beautiful, metamorphasizing cocks.

I have loved so many of them,
Adored them, sucked them
Fondled them, praised them
And loved them.

All different, all beautiful
I have known young ones,
Thinly covered with puberty’s first
Blossoming of manhood

I have seen the pageant winners
And frowned at the few, cruelly endowed ones.
Yet, I loved them all.
I have seen the manly ones in their prime.
Long hard beautiful cocks.

I have seen those chastened by gray hairs,
And long years of wear and tear.
They just get more beautiful with age.

And for the ones who weren’t perfect,
I loved them even more
For their tenacity and bravery.

Since I was not born with a cock,
I must enjoy the company of other’s.
So I can enjoy this beautiful gift of nature.
Beautiful cocks.