CRISIS OF INFINITE URGES

Stop it.
Stop laughing at me.
Do not mock my serious problems
as anything less than what they are
for they are serious
and they are problems,
too.

There is an absence in my life
both substantial and severe.
I have no one
who cares
no one who loves me
enough for the nightly blowjobs.

My girlfriend will not provide
and neither will my wife
nor her sister
nor my mother
(not that I ask. She gets all uptight at those kinds of requests).

I cannot get my whistle whetted
no matter how much I wish.
I mean, certainly,
an occasional trip to Beggartown
has yielded results
but who has the income for
those regular expenditures?
I do not
and is this not my problem?
IS THIS NOT?

No, clearly,
I am doomed
to loveless loneliness
and infrequent BJs
– which is all I wanted
growing up.
Why – oh, WHY? –
must I suffer this story
and its unsatisfying climax?