It's not deep by any means, and it's just a list of punchlines, but it a funny poem when targeting someone in the audience.
I originally wrote if for John Kofonow, then applied it to Josh Fleming, and then used it in the 2002 Mesa Grand Poetry Slam against Corbet Dean, who took it a little too personally, but have since applied it Josh Wiss, Ryan Brown and John Q,
"He Needs It Bad"
My friend [first name], [full name], needs it bad
he needs the kind of sex that makes paint peel, stars supernova, and changes your neighbor's religion
he needs the kind of physical lovin' every sexual fantasy promises but reality can't deliver
he needs the kind of freaky-freaky that brings empires to their knees, time to a halt, and the cops to the front door with the suspicion that “Shit! Someone is getting murdered in there!"
he needs the kind of sweet love-fest that's better than immortality, better than nirvana, Better Than Ezra, and better than a jumbo-size chocolate fudge sundae with sprinkles and side of, "oh, God … oh, God … oh, God ….
he needs the kind of orgasmic ecstasy that makes a 14-hour three-way with Lindsay Lohan, and 18-year-old Catholic school girl with no inhibitions, and a double-jointed Italian prostitute with great person hygiene, a killer body, and no gag reflex seem as boring as visiting your grandmother in a coma
he needs the kind wild monkey lovin' to rock his world, alter his destiny, save his soul, restore his faith, blow his … mind
he needs the kind of body-rockin' that's illegal in 44 states and the District of Columbia because it's just too damn good
he needs the kind of horizontal mambo that makes tantric sex laughable in comparison and would make the writers of the Kama Sutra blush
he needs the kind of white-knuckle, teeth-gnashing, back-scratching, tongue-twisting, earth-shattering, soul-cleansing, hair-splitting, brain-altering, mind-erasing, headboard-shattering, heart-stopping, atom-smashing, idiot-proof sex that we all say our exes had with us
he needs the kind of erotic free-for-all every love poem desires, every religion secretly promises and every girlfriend has had with me
he needs it for one simple reason: because I'm sick and tired of hearing him bitch and moan about being single, because dammit, when I'm drunk at after a slam with a glass of beer in my hand, all I want to think about is being drunk at after a slam with a glass of beer in my hand
so please, for the love of Pete, if you know what this shit is like, please talk to the man over there, take him home, rock his world, make him yours and get him to stop whining. his phone number is [target’s phone number] because if I have to listen to his sex poetry anymore I'm going to have to fuck him myself
Copyright 2001 © Christopher Fox Graham