Silly me, should’ve known the score
What a fuss, right old furore
Seems you can have laugh, bit of a joke
Even got a facility to have a poke.
But dare mention masturbation
And you shock half the nation
We all do it, Kevin!
That’s why your neighbour’s got six digits
They all like a little fidget
Find me a man who doesn’t and he’s a liar
Even an imaginary country squire
Maybe you’re prudish because you’re wed
Hides knocking one out in a garden shed.
We all do it, Kevin!
You can be so modern but so green
Things might be done but certainly not seen
Hope your young boys flush their teenage tissues
Really don’t want embarrassing family issues.
We all do it, Kevin!
You see a MILF or a GILF on a train
But don’t think about a bloke exactly the same
I’m a filthy beast it shouldn’t be done
Worse than that Philpott in ‘The Sun’
We all do it, Kevin!
Oh shock, horror! A naughty word
You really are being absurd
How much worse did you hear when nicking a crook?
Yet take offence at one line on Facebook.
We all do it, Kevin!
Am learning to express myself, like one on one
Sharing my poetry’s actually quite fun
Giving me the confidence to pen some more
You’re a football man you know the score!
And deep down…
We’d all like to do it, Kevin
Get over it!
Dulwich Poet 8th April 2013
( A response to a comment made by someone, who questioned one line of a poem I put on my Facebook page, in my real name, after one line included –their words-me ‘knocking one out’, which they didn’t want to read)
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