The dizzy penis confused and confounded,

feels nervous, squashed, bent over,

sort of dead,

feels like it’s falling.

Where to easily know

and go

when it’s on the make

is not an automatic understanding.
This is unimpressive and is exceedingly frustrating.

It blanks out, feels stupid, is stopped in its track,

when it sees and feels forced to guess what is

a flip-flop man in a soft velvet dress dancing

and a wisecracking & laughing woman in a football helmet

being enveloped by male opponents.

It yells before collapsing or attacking, ”That’s not fair! That’s not what the signs we’ve seen since birth says!

”This is an absurd and repellent Can’t Do!
“You broke the rule of The Pant and The Dress!

“I don’t know where to go anymore for sure, with absolute,

and unshakeable heroic certainty!
So I will get my US President and the US Supreme Court

to squash you, bend you, sort of make you dead, and gone,

for having had the audacity to try and trick and trap me,

with lying and cheating, and the make-believe that

stalls and prevents me from

it’s complete & obedient release

in propagating my RestRoom Sign’s species!”

©️ July 2025 Much Love, Deb Poems