She Said

(part V)

 

“Well,”

she said,

“it doesn’t make me want to come.”

 

200,000 sperm to a teaspoon

and you expect an orgasm

every line?

 

Most of those 10,000 score

are beaten by expectancy,

inadvertently placed in front of your starter-pistol

and shot dead last.

 

One in every 15 billion

might carry some chance

of fertilization,

a stronger tail,

a better rhyme.

 

But until I write one of those,

sit back,

read this,

and take it

like the intellectual

you want to be.

 

There simply aren’t enough eggs

to compliment

half-assed sperm,

and if you think

you can do any better. . .

here’s the strap-on,

good luck.