This is a poem my friend and I wrote every-other line to…

Written by Jon Kohen and Emily Suarez

(copyright infringement is frowned upon)


"Flaccid…" he whispered

as he slowly pulled his
car out of the driveway.


My balls

…they are…frightened;

small, delicate, like a baby's heart beat


The way you stood, breathless, perspiring,

it was almost as if you knew that

as if you knew….my secret.


I, the mail man, am stoned.

Wait, oh yes, wait a minute mister postman…

I, am the walrus.

and…i am packing.


Today, we venture forth, into the wild undergrowth

to explore the inner depths of his inner thighs.


"Flaccid…" he whispered.


Nay! Not again! Hast my vast oceans of manhood depleted?!

I weep.

I stand alone, dried up.

Alone, I stand, void of liquids.

How, now, will I beseech her loins?

I wonder.


Again, I whipped out my love device stick

O, cruel fate, that a creature such as I must be self serviced!

Again, I ravaged my battered, unbridled loins


The car

has entered

the driveway.


"Flaccid…" he whispered, never more.