Ladies, come and get it, that irresistible piece of me,
and it sure ain't my brain, it's the manly piece I'm not using, currently.
Now, don't get me wrong, I could have more action
than I can handle, although there is no such thing, I'm hung,
there no problem there, yes, it dominates most of my thinking,
ladies, it's a hobby horse, unless I've been drinking.
Everyone knows that the size of your hungness
is an indication of your worth as a man, that makes me best.
And I know that power is an irresistible aphrodisiac,
and so how much you want to get me in the sack.
Yes, it's a curse to carry these good looks,
I'm better looking than you'll ever see in books.
And, I don't want to brag, but I can tweet all night long,
yes, I'm obsessed with all things shlong.
It's how I know something is important enough
you know, for me to care about and stuff.
So, ladies, if you want to ride the D-train, 'all aboard!'
Love me or hate me, I will NOT be ignored!
Hi. I don't even know what one would call this, it certainly is not set out properly in poem structure. And it probably does not make any sense to anyone but me. I wrote it while watching a Woody Allen film for the first time; Cafe Society, and realizing how much my ex's humor had rubbed off on me. He did a lot of bad things, I've accepted that I'll never understand him, but will always love him. And sometimes it's even nice to imagine where we'd be if he'd just made a few 'right' decisions. Anyway, it felt good to write it down regardless.