The Alternative Advent: Day 12

Who’d need Viagra?

Naughty croquet…

What on Earth’s
the worth of girth?
she said in bed
with Ted who said:

“It’s good but wood’s
not always like
the night we’d
start with head—
I’d like to feel
your hands instead.”

So that’s the plan
to get it working
or MC’s twerking
might get him jerking—

And without a sound
the hand was led
inside the bed
inbound-toward
to Ted’s renowned
pure thorough-bread
to get aroused
a—long—side dead—

She’d racked
and wrought
an oak provoked
by stroke
reversed Martini’s-waken
unstirred?
no good
unshake?
try Mâcon

Oh how to spur
Ted’s broken bacon—

“Come South my dear
and bring your mouth
it needs something
to fight fatigue.”

We could always try an EKG?
she sneezed—

“Oh please!”
he swiftly pleads
and shifts
to unimpede
his lead and hopes
his pope will lift—

“Commandeer my pier,
my dear
and persevere
I know I’m near.”
This year?
“You think?” he said
she winked
and fed herself
his spear—

It was
an organ
she’s certain
was shortened
by boredom
as the burden
to harden was hers—

Not that I mind
I’m inclined
if I may
like a bloke
to unwind
but Ted—

A joke is a joke
cos this member
is smote
there must be
a new note—

I want someone
to drill me
and you can’t
even fill me!
you won’t have me stay over:
a soiree is cliché
when there’s no naughty croquet whatsoever—

So Ted sorts out
his creature—
it’s not he
that’ll feature
on the singles-night
bleacher parquet
on a weekday—

He finds something
inside him
to help her
bestride him
and ride him
despite him
reviving the pipe
that denied him—

Earlier that night…

Those who today still feel a sense of impotence can do something: they can support Amnesty International. They can help it to stand up for freedom and justice…

Peter Benenson