saxifras tribadism
there comes a time
in every young girl's life
when she must cut off a penis
(as it is well known
penises grow on trees
in tight pink bunches
but the penis tree
is guarded well
by angry men with big guns
how is she to taste the fruit
if she is neither
foolhardy enough
to storm the compound
with her sisters
guns blazing
or brave enough
to seduce a guard and
under the cover of night
sneak in and grab
an armful of cock
and hurry home to light and warmth
she dreams of the penis
of its touch and taste
of its own will
of its texture she thinks
its flavour and stink
of its juice
its perfection
and its ebb and flow
on her tongue in her mouth
in her throat
there's a lump
her mind not yet set
but nonetheless
in the blue evening
she sneaks in somehow
and out
with an apronful of cock
fresh delicious and warm
in the morning
she is found out
of course
some routine arithmetical
column
doesn't add up
so her sisters
send her out
to keep the peace
and the men
in the town square with the big guns
cut her penis to pieces
and the birds still sing
and the sand and grass
rustle still roughly
under lovers' backs
something's missing now
in the morning air
and there comes a time
in every young girl's life
when she must cut off a penis
and the time is right
and the rhyme is right
but she's simply no longer there