For My Boner, At Work

I know you’re there,
You press up against my khakis
and you whisper “woe, woe, woe”
I’d whisper back,
but I’m afraid of what everyone thinks

I wish I could
I’m sorry I can’t.

I used to take you out
in the mornings
in the afternoon
and at night
we would laugh
we would watch an asian girl get slapped around
don’t think I don’t miss it
I do

While you wait,
sad and lonely
in my trousers,
just know
I have Saturdays and Sundays off
we can play all day.

I’ll probably be writing poetry for my penis all week. I hope you don’t mind

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