“Go On, Guys!”

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

This sonnet contains language and sexual content that you may find offensive.  If you think it might offend you, please do not read it.  If you read it and are offended, remember you were warned.  Do not complain to the poet or to anyone.  Thanks,

As males grow up, they’re taught that they require

To fuck, Fuck, FUCK.  Environment and genes

Insist that they are goaded into fire

Outside and tucked inside their zipped up jeans.

If guys are not consumed by hormone sex,

Then everything around them says they are.

They suffer from that double-whamming hex.

Testosterone has zinged, and yet by far

Their training’s everywhere.  They look to Tate

And turn to porn, harsh, driven by their poles.

The manosphere has told them they can hate.

Gay libbers whisper, “Turn to any holes.”

  Go on.  Fuck everything you want, their lips,

    All slimy slits, between their tits and hips.