Zzzz won't come

He thinks about it,
Whilst alone in bed.
Those slippery thoughts,
Slide into his head.

It's hard being male.
He stares at the clock,
Trying to focus,
Away from his

BLOCK!

Yes; block it all out.
It won't be too long.
But all he thinks of,
Ends up sounding wrong.

He's really pent-up,
With nothing to do.
He thinks of a tart,
Wearing something blue.

He wants to screw

NAILS

Into a nice wall.

He wants to enter

a fine music hall.

He's losing the plot.
It's taking over.
He wants his leg to,
Get over a her.

He feels frustrated.
He can't block it out.
He pictures the tart,
With a blatant pout.

He thinks of her nude;
She's shapely but slim.
He pictures her legs,
Opening for him.

Things are getting worse.
It's getting harder.
He thinks of pushing

CANS IN A LARDER.

And then he just

sleeps,

And has hot

sweetcorn,

In his guiltless dream,
For this isn't porn!

3 March 2005