Erotic Poetry by Sean Ryan
I often wonder
how man survived before the internet.
Masturbation must have been difficult
for the common man,
and
impossible
for the perverted man.
Nowhere to take out his frustrations,
nowhere to focus the debauchery inside him.
Perhaps that’s why the ancient world was stained with blood.
Where else could he see a Smurf three-way?
Covered in blue paint, wearing white booties.
Where else could he see two people making love?
In the woods, atop a deceased black bear.
Where else could he see a clown mistress?
Giving oral pleasures, with smeared makeup.
He must have stewed in his own perversity,
or wandered the Earth,
like a horny ronin,
searching for somewhere he could finally belong.
Originally published June 2010