Thursday 26 November 2009

#88 - Primary Itch

He paces his study for days
claiming writer's block
but, in fact,
just randy.

It's tough, when all your friends
are 'colleagues', to explain
you've got this little
problem:

your thesis is going to be late
unless you get to hump
someone. Not very
scholarly.

The Classics may chunter on about love
but he suspects they were just
gussying up something
much blunter.

He treads the rug bald; feeds
pencil after pencil into
the automatic
sharpener.

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