She ain't crying
for me.
This banshee
is just laughing
at my misery.
Now I thought her duty
was to mourn
the dead
but it's literally
because
I have no lead.
Yes, this banshee ain't crying.
She ain't crying
for me.
This banshee
is laughing
at my misery.
Now I can blame
this condition
on my advancing age
but it's hard
when you're not
even on the page.
So excuse me
for the poetic irony
on that very last line
but a man
with the erectile dysfunction blues
just has to pine.
This banshee ain't crying.
She ain't crying
for me.
This banshee is now
laughing
at my misery.
I hoped
that rebuilding for success
included a home cooked meal
and I was willing,
for my stamina,
to make a deal.
I said to Ms. Banshee
if you can begin
to weep
I will invite you over
for my heart
to keep.
Dinner
will be served
with Irish stew
as your presence
is required
for me to start anew.
The ingredients
should ignite
my little flare gun.
A new anthem
between us
can be sung.
This banshee is smiling.
She is smiling
for me.
This banshee and I
will make
carnal history.
*****************************************************************