Wishing my penis
could detach itself
and crawl
off somewhere
far away from me
She insists
she understands
how I feel
especially
the moments one
is tempted to snip
it off with a
pair of scissors
or cut it off
with a knife
“You should
not do that”
she orders
“Let it be”
But I tell her
whispering words
of wisdom
isn’t changing anything
“Just trying to help”
she says
Yet
I am the
nowhere man
and
certainly
no paperback writer
“You are published”
she reminds me
“Shame I can’t
speak to you”
I tell her
seems she is
across the universe
No yellow submarine
to get me there
No ticket to ride
“I’m a lesbian”
she concludes
