I Am Not Above Writing Penis-Themed Poetry and Begging You to Read It

One of the fascinating, frustrating, baffling, bewildering things about writing a blog is that it's really goddamn hard to predict what people are going to like.

Seriously, a million and a half people clicked on this bullshit?

I can't tell you how many times I've written a post that I thought was brilliant, or put a picture on my Facebook page that seemed insanely clever to me, only to have the response be utterly tepid. On the other hand, I've posted things that I literally didn't think twice about, and they've racked up more hits than the latest celebrity meltdown.

This tells me that I'm astonishingly bad at figuring out what is going to strike a chord with people. Good thing I don't do this shit for a living.

If it had been my call, One Direction never would have
seen the light of day. I guess I just have terrible
taste in music, hmmm?

Anyway, my typical reaction to hearing crickets chirp at what I believed to be a quality post is to lick my wounds in silence and try to do better next time. But tonight I'm going to give something I wrote another shot. Because I really like it and also have nothing else to write about tonight, but I didn't say that last part out loud.

So in June 2012, I wrote a poem called "Ode to the Pee-Pee" and posted it here on Always Drunk. I really liked it, and I thought other people might be tickled by it, too. But the poem and the post in which it featured both sank without a trace.

Shown here: No trace.

Maybe it was too sophisticated for the masses. On the other hand, it was a poem about dicks. So I don't know.

I moved on to the next post (probably something about Dick Perry or Snickers Peanut Butter Squared) and forgot about it. Public taste is a fickle thing, and I know that not everything I write is gold. I hate it, but I know it.

Still, a few days ago I was poring over old blog topics, and I came upon the post featuring "Ode to the Pee-Pee." Um, I came across the post. Yes, better. I re-read the poem, and it tickled me all over again. So I'm re-running it. Because it's my goddamn blog, and if I want to feature a forgotten poem about the the male member that almost nobody read the first time it ran, I can do that thing.

Also I like penises.

And...yeah, not much else going on tonight.

I give you the triumphant re-release of "Ode to the Pee-Pee."


Ode to the Pee-Pee.
The promise of a penis is the premise of this post.
A protuberance of prominence to which Priapus was host.
Whether plumped for procreation
Or produced for urination
People praise its perfect placement and precision uppermost.

The purpose of this popular peripheral is plain,
Protruding from the pelvis like a public water main
To perform as plumbing, that is,
It's the proper apparatus
To promote proficient passage into pipes or down the drain.

Pleased to perk up at the promise of a petting or a prance,
It pops up perpendicular and pushes at the pants
Of the person it pertains to
As propulsively it strains to
Be permitted to the party and procure a poke perchance.

While practical for peeing and providing passing pleasure,
The package isn't perfect, as expected of a treasure.
Not so pretty as Prince Paris,
And it perches there precarious,
And inspires apprehension and propensity to measure.

But perfection in the penis possibly is past the point.
The Prince of All Protrusions it's appropriate to anoint.
Put the phallus in perspective,
Petty problems irrespective,
It's a pretty peachy parcel and a purely peerless joint.

Copyright 2012, www.always-drunk.com

Like it? I'll send you a lovely printed copy if you want. Just let me know. You sickos.