Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Inspired by Hester Prynne's "Yanks at tenderly"

He yanks at tenderly his own—
his prose, his pride, his pose—
as men and boys his age are prone
to do from time to time.

He masturbates in public view
in melancholy hell
and hopes that souls the likes of you
will catch him in his prime—

and no, it’s not a jerking wank
like tics of nervous dicks,
but something else his hand’ll yank
and nothing like a crime

but rather, in his movement, he
appears to rub his tears
that somehow in his movements be
come viscous thick as slime,

as snot, as sniffled mucus rot.
He cries and you surmise
his burdens weigh an awful lot
and what you offer I’m

ashamed to say I never have,
as if my handkerchief
would ever’ve been to much to give
to wipe away his grime.

Could it be called "Onan's Complaint"? Very overtly humorous poem.

Lord only knows which ways the humor blows.

I was in East Dallas today with my Mexican and Lebanese neighbors having a cookout. 'Lard only knows which way the hummus flows'! (Sorry Joel, sometimes I can't turn off this rancid syllabic compunction). -BUTCH

hahaha

I happen to love this Joel.
Ya know, Yanks at Tenderly was one of those things that I can't even fathom having written, and I felt that way at the time I wrote it.
It feels confessional, and I'm hoping it's a leap of sorts, once I understand what it is I am confessing here.
Love what you did...., makes alotta sense to me.
No joke....
H

Freud's breakfast
two over easy
one makes too much sense