A Poem Called Tits

John Hall
who is a hero
refused to write a poem called “Tits.”

I do not blame him
but I do think
this is evidence
of his weakness of character
and his willingness to bend
to the fates
behind the Crypto-Judaic Conspiracy
and their insistence
on destroying Christmas, privilege
and apple pie.

In my day,
everybody had a poem called “Tits,”
and though most of them were simple
(like “Tits. Tits! I like its!”
or “I want to put your breasticles
around my testicles
and then drive North and Westicles”),
and many were racist
(like “Black tits. Black tits! Better than yellow nips!”),

I wish to go back to those times
and live when we were all better men for our poetry.
Our poetry
and their tits.

Do not damn John Hall, though,
for his fear in facing facts
and refusing to fight the furious.

Let him be
even though he abjectly refuses
to write a poem
about my favorite subject
with a title
using my favorite word.

About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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