I can't help
But notice you
Sitting on the other side
Of my short
London Overground ride.
Well not actually 'you'
More those huge mounds of flesh
Squeezing out of your
Two sizes too small
Summery blue top
Just because the mercury
Has nudged above
Seventy degrees.
Hand on heart
I'm not getting any hotter
I'd rather cop a feel
Of the young lad
By the doors
Get down and kneel
Undo his belt then
Rip down his zip.
Certainly does more for me
Than her big breasts ever will.
But still...
I have to say
Despite being gay
One day
I'd love to play
With a bouncing pair of boobs!
I can't help wondering
If this is a throwback
To being a Seventies boy
When gathering round
Page Three in the playground
Was our little joy.
Laughing along with your mate
Far too young to ejaculate.
I've got no real fixation
On girlie tits
For further down below
I'm into manly bits.
Maybe I was brainwashed
Staring at Samantha Fox
I pined for my mates cocks.
As I got a little older
I wish I'd been bolder
And tried to play with the boys
Before they discovered real girls
Were their best toys.
That guilt and fear stopped me
Going or a grope
So scared of being called a poof
I lost all hope.
I always known I've preferred men
Even if I pretended to like breast then.
So how weird is it
To want a titty-wank
For that strange thought
I've got Rupert Murdoch to thank.
Maybe the answer's
One of those girls
Saving for Brazil
The one's who are pre-op
And can stil lgive me a thrill.
Plenty to enjoy
Down below
Then I can move upstairs
To finish the show!
Dulwich Poet 29th March 2014
(On the train today there was a woman opposite, with big tits in tight top. Despite knowing I'm gay and not being attracted to women, one thing I 'miss', if that's the right word, about being gay, is not being able to fondle a nice pair of breasts...)
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