Phallic Hunger

Bugging me still
Is the regret in
not asking her for a fuck.

Why just her?
Had died to ask many women.
What if I had?

Had taught them
In my mind
The postures in the Kamasutra
Standing, sitting, lying down.

Yet,
Never asked them.
Though
There was nothing as intense
As my phallic hunger.

Scared to be exiled
To the Hell of Humiliation
If I revealed my desire,
I withdraw my phallus
And its primeval yearning
And put up a bill board
Like everyone else
That such a creature
Doesn’t inhabit this place.

Yes, I am that criminal
Who may rape
In a split second sway of the mind.

Friend,
Our under garments
Which are soaked to shreds
By spurting semen
Do not lie.

(Translated  by Ra Sh)