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Ode to a Wilted Trojan-a TR poem

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Ode to a Wilted Trojan

(with apologies to Percy B. Shelley)


Oh, weary Wilted Condom, husk of playful night,

Thou, with whose assistance the guns of love

Are loaded, then soon shot off, out of sight.

Lubed and ribbed, minty fresh, tightly rolled,

Panic striken multitudes agree: O thou,

Keep us safe whilst in your glove-like hold.

Each gift of seed, given forth but not for issue,

Each swollen condom a corpse within its grave,

Thine latex doth encase; less need for tissue.

Your spermicidal scent, resounding rubber snap;

(Sweet signal, O let the sweaty games begin)

Coaxed easy from your individual foil wrap.

Wild and Wilted Condom, which art lying by my bed;

Destroyer and preserver; hast the fires of new love fed.


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