Evil Willie
He calls me over to the park bench:
Wanna see something?
It lolls from his open fly
partly erect. The dark ,
almost silvery in its salt and pepper
rookery.
Your willies come out Mr.!
As I stare, it rears
as if to threaten the entire city
with a bold cyclopean gaze. A monster
only Superman (my other half),
could battle against.
I’m telling mum, I fling over my shoulder,
as I run,
all my heroic-powers gone.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment