A Pubic Hair Poem (from my new book of pubic hair poems "Poetry From Down Under")
Consider the lot of a pubic hair Condemned to a life of just lying there Never allowed a pigtail or a plait Or a day at the races wearing a hat Not for the pube a conditioning rinse (That thought alone would make most people wince) Or the delight of a styling gel To free it at last from its prison cell Instead it's obliged to live out its days Hidden from raindrops and bright sunshine rays Greeted more often with cries of "Oh no!" When it pops out the odd time to say hello