I wandered lonely as a guy
Who spends his time on message boards
For those who find themselves love-shy,
Commiserating in accord.
To be clear, I'm not one of them,
Though sympathizing now and then.
No, solitude is my own choice,
Though still a heavy cross to bear.
In self-control I do rejoice
And to the same degree despair.
My discipline I now should mention:
My manly essence's retention.
I do not jerk; I do not fuck;
I do not dare to spill a drop
Of milky goo, of creamy muck.
No greater failure than to pop.
In palm of hand, in cave of yoni,
Lies mortal threat to my baloney.
And yet for me there is recourse
When swallowed by the tides of lust:
Recirculating inner force
When comes the time for me to bust.
With pretzel spine, I double up,
And in my waiting gullet—glup!
