KEEP IT CLEAN by Dennis Doph

because why? 32

"Keep it clean", said the Mom to her beamish young boy
Wiping crud from a schmutzige Lego-log toy
Making sure he washed his hands after he touched his pubes
Worrying and weeping if he was followed around by louche rubes
Who might lure her beamish young boy far astray
...and somehow, hopelessly, get him carried away

Carried away to a land of neon and lust
Where the shy and the timid get left in the dust
Where a beamish young manboy who's gifted with meat
Can always advance and never retreat

Such was the bringing-up offered to me
By my miserable Mom-beast by the Puget Sound Sea
As she wiped my mucky face from each possible germ
Never suspecting that face had been covered with sperm

Then Off-Broadway she saw me shaking my booty and ballast
Bringing down the roof with my stuff in that Palast
And later, when sparked with marijuana so fine
She spied in a Czech film something which might have been mine

And, though "inserts" were something which might come from books
The progress I made was not based on my looks
But rather, from my mule member
(Scudda-hoo! Scudda-hay!)
It was inserts they wanted ... it was inserts that pay

Before Mom reported my doings to each uncle and aunt
She saw how I was courted by Burt, Scott, Bates, and C.Grant
And the gifts I received (which caused her to smile)
Were not gifts which required a Barrymore profile

So down through the ages while we're shooting the breeze
We can parse Marcel Proust while you drop to your knees
And while considering Eliots and Ez-ara Pounds
You can study the romantic view of two mounds
Which might not be the biggest (though you seem quite impressed)
And the rest is as large as your nerve might have guessed

So, though the subject of Proust is not something to parse
Remember! Every stud dude possesses an arse!
"Keep it clean", said my Mom, in a febrile complaint
CLEAN is just what it is. KEPT is just what it ain't.