The Swerve

I can’t seem to get it up anymore.
Seems like I’ve gone off the deep end
and like far too many
intriguing things.
My tastes are so selective
it’s hard to do anything
without it being extreme
and painful.

What got me started?
Maybe it was the carbon sex
or the two-year subscription
to Porpoise Three-Ways
or that live show
with the male heterosexuals
giving head to giant black headed beetles.

Any way you slice it
the porn just doesn’t do it for me these days.
Perhaps it’s time
to dial back on all these curious proclivities.
This might be the opportunity
to strip it down
so that I think – so I fantasize –
about only the purest,
most primitive of things.

With effort,
I might be able to get excited
like in the old days
by a stiff breeze
or a teacher leaning over.
Or maybe if I imagine
some poor cosmonaut runaway
taking it up all seven holes,
that might rev my engines…
No.

Still nothing.
Maybe if her brain pan was visible?
I’ll figure this out.
With enough practice
I’m sure this will all come together.

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