The Fractured Todger

poem by: Owen Cullimore
Written on Mar 16, 2014

Mr Smith a vain and obnoxious man
Overdid one hot steamy night in June
Making love passionately
Under the Stars and the Moon

Disturbed by a very large dog
Hid partner panicked and wanted to run
Who, leaping up, inadvertently kneed Mr Smith in the groin
Which caused damage he had rather had not of been done

So off to the doctors he did hurriedly go
With his todger well and truly bent
Moaning and groaning profusely
His love life suddenly well and truly spent

The Doctors receptionist Mrs O’Reilly called out next
So approaching the counter he did meekly smile
What’s wrong with you she said, eyeing up Mr Smith
Who was groaning and holding his groin all the while 

Had an accident he replied, and it got bent
He whispered cautiously not wanting to be overheard
Speak up she bellowed loudly, don’t be shy
What got bent, Oh God, don’t be absurd


But it has he shouted temporarily forgetting his plight
With others in the waiting room now listening intently
I’ve definitely bent my thing-a-ma-gig quite badly
It all happened quite accidentally

A likely story said Mr’s O’Reilly
And into Dr Roberts he was sent
Who looked up and saw this man holding his groin
And then sat and listened intently to his predicament

Explaining how this misfortune happened
About making love and being disturbed
Flopping it out onto the table
The doctor now stared and looked quite perturbed

His todger was without doubt
Now well and truly bent
At an angle of forty five degrees half way down
And lent either way in the position it was sent

Mr’s Casey, the doctor’s new assistant
Who was the lady in question who caused this mishap
Screamed Oh my God, when she spotted the problem
Lurched forward quickly, slipped, and fell into Smith’s lap

A loud scream came from Mr Smith’s person
Who by now was distraught at the sight of his old chap
Now bent and bruised and aching
And leaking like an old kitchen tap

The scene was like an old pantomime farce
Because MR’s Casey had by now slipped to the floor
And hearing the commotion, racket and row
Mrs O’Reilly was now stood at the door

Mr Smith jumped up 
His todger waving free in the air
With Doctor Roberts now creased up with laughter
Who promptly fell off his chair

The sight of Mr Smith’s anatomy
All battered and bent
As he ran out of the surgery cursing
No one knowing which way he went

When all gained their composures, a mystified look
Had overtaken the laughter that was rampant throughout
When everyone heard in the surgery
What all the fuss was about

Meanwhile Mr Smith, damaged todger and all
Had arrived back home by taxi no less
Into the bath for a jolly good soak
How he survived is anyone’s guess 

 

Tags: humor, imagery,

Add Comment


Peter Duggan commented:
Great write, this one had me laughing my head off, the poor bloke lol
Christopher Russon commented:
Excellent poem.very humorous.

 

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