I know I did an underwear poem last year, too. But, this one is different. Somehow, the thought of undergarments brings out the poet in me!
NOTE: If you want to see what a real poet does, visit Pat Hatt at Rhyme Time. Compared to him, I suck. Well, compared to what you'd normally find on bathroom walls, I suck.
Last year’s challenge from ‘A’ to ‘Z’
was pretty easy. Even for me.
But, this year when I got to ‘U’
I wondered, perplexed...what should I do?
Worried, I was. So I thought, “Should I dare
write another poem on underwear?”
This won’t be a rhyme of reproduction.
Just my underwear-with introduction.
So, sit back, relax, and set a spell.
Tomorrow’s ‘T’ so you may as well.
As a wee babe, my parents saw fit
to wrap me in cloth or be covered in shit.
Cloth diaper’s what I wore. Then I’d soil it.
Which Mom would rinse clean in the toilet.
I had drawers with a pee hole I never used.
Bugs Bunny, Popeye, and Tigger, too.
While wearing my Batman underoos.
Little Al and “the boys.” Snug as could be.
|I know. This is the third time I used this picture. |
But, that Gary Coleman dude just cracks me up.
I didn’t like white. Hmm...red? Maybe blue?
But, as I started dating the fairer sex
I was cursed by this damn silly underdrawers hex.
For, as she drew near in her sexy, sheer nightie
I rose to embrace her...damn tightey-whiteys!
I decided no more “Underwear Nerd.”
From skivvy prison I quickly demurred.
Bikini Briefs were great silken sacks.
Banana hammocks to hold my Klick-Klacks.
A wee porn star, with a cheesy moustache.
But, like the end of disco, bikinis: trash.
|Now just picture bikini briefs under the uniform. |
I know. Ewww.
Going commando meant skin to zipper.
Better watch out for those weenie rippers.
But, that was just skeevy, fashion doom.
Along with visiting Emergency Rooms.
|No, I don't know why I never bought button flys, either.|
Boxers? Oh, heavens, dear me, no!
Can’t have the little guy poke out, “Hello!”
Now I’m middle-aged. I breathe with relief
With the comforting snugness of boxer briefs.
What’ll I do in that event?
I don’t know.