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Anatomy of the Male Psyche


    Anatomy of the Male Psyche

    Steven Balle-Gifford

    My penis,

    A funny mound of skin

    Which someone chose to call a


    Language is the only

    Barrier for you to understand

    What my penis is.

    My penis is beyond words

    My penis is not a penis.

    My penis is a fire truck,

    Raging, with sirens full blare,

    As it scurries to put out a fire.

    My penis is the finest crystal,

    Shimmering its spectrum, blinding you,

    As you turn it in the light.

    My penis is a big steel rod,

    With a blunt end

    That I smack you in the head with

    When you act your boring self.

    My penis is a picket fence

    That you paint white

    And plant daisies in front of.

    My penis is a mystery novel,

    With character sketches and plot twists

    With each fold of skin you turn.

    But most of all, my penis is not

    A part of me.

    I see it, but do not want it.

    I want it severed and destroyed.

    That penis has been used by so many men

    To hurt others,

    To prove their worth.

    My penis is just a lump of skin

    That swells with blood

    When excited.

    When I die, men will talk of

    My penis.

    "What a mighty penis it was"

    They will chant.

    "It had handles on it,

    So that you could clutch

    And go for a ride."

    Leave my penis alone.

    It is mine.

    I'm taking it with me.

    -- Steve Balle-Gifford

    here is another copy of the poem from my new account ... if you could post this one, I'd be ever grateful ... i also have a homepage at: .... If there is someway you could make a link at the end of the poem ... that would be oh so nice ... thanks

    This poem is one of many published by the EServer, a nonprofit collective.