(NB this is not a kiddy poem)
He lurks by the bar,
He’s downing his beer,
He’s lairy, he’s sweary,
He’s had two or three.
He chats up the birds,
There’s nothing to fear
Until... he needs a wee.
For nothing panics good old Lionel
Like standing at the men’s urinal.
It makes him sweat, it scares him rigid,
Catching sight of another man’s digit.
Eyes straight ahead! Just keep on pishing!
Block out the view from your peripheral vision!
Gawk at the pork? No bloody way!
If you clock a cock you MUST be gay!
He’s dancing away,
He’s busting the moves,
He’s healthy, he’s wealthy,
He’s flashing the cash.
He’s loving the party vibe,
Loving the grooves
Until... he needs a slash.
For nothing tortures Micky McGee
Like a trip to the gentleman’s WC.
He’ll go to great lengths, he’s determined, he’s hell-bent
On avoiding the sight of another bloke’s bell-end.
He’ll don some blinkers, there’s a lot at stake –
He might catch a glimpse of a trouser snake!
It’s driving him nuts! He needs to get sectioned!
Penises flying in all directions!
He’s pumping some iron,
He’s lifting some weights,
He’s hurly, he’s burly,
He’s fit as a fiddle.
He’s flexing his biceps,
He’s feeling just great
Until... he needs a widdle.
For nothing troubles our man Gareth
Like copping sight of some dude’s phallus.
He gets palpitations, he breaks out in hives –
Eyes to the front! Don’t look to the sides!
For no other horror can compete
With an inadvertent peak of meat.
You’ll be OK, mate. You’ll struggle through.But... is the guy next to you glancing at YOU??