"Sound Of Silence", "Stranger In A Strange Land", Amputation, Bris, Circumcision, Death Sentense, Michael Valentine Smith, Offense, Peeing, Pissing, Priest, Robert Heinlein, Scared Ground, Shaman, Simon & Garfunkel, Whetstone
To a rip roaring high degree
I terribly did have to pee
So I pulled out my drowning cock
But soon received an awful shock
In shrubs and trees all around
Hundreds of eyes on me I found
A clear as crystal voice cried out
“You need to stop what you’re about!
You trespass upon sacred land!
Burial ground to royal clan.”
Gone was the sound of silence
“Pissing here’s a mighty sin.
You must stop now; do not begin.”
Pronouncement I did long to heed
But my bladder had dire need
Tried to pinch off my flowing stream
But for relief my wee-wee screamed
My splashing broke the silence
I did release a tiny drop
Perhaps small stream; but could not stop
To my surprise and great shock
Committed offense with my cock
By multitude I’m now despised
Death threats, war whoops feared soon I’d die
They had great numbers and higher ground
In seconds flat was roped and bound
Wish I’d not pissed on his Highness
From sacred ground I did perceive
Intense hatred: Temerity
Hog tied and carried on a staff
I wet myself and they just laughed
Soon a whetstone it was glistening
Scrape of metal; dreaded listening
And then my wet pants were drawn down
Prayed for my prick, hoped they just clowned
Tried to think of way out of there
Hard to stay calm when one’s half bare
Could barely hold my crying
Dire sentence from tribal shaman
Time to be circumcised again
Lopectomy he had in store
Great offense gods could not ignore
I cried aloud from dire need
“Almighty leader, hear my plea!
Meant no offense to you and yours;
Am a stranger on foreign shores!”
Religion rules, not science!
“Sorry I committed great sin,
Why the bris? I’ve lost my foreskin
Surely something else we can do?
Than take from me my favorite tool?”
With his deep eyes into me bore
Look he gave did not reassure
He raised the knife into the sky
With menace sneered, said my goodbyes
I’d really hoped he’d buy it
“Fool,” said he, “we will not cut,
But who are you to run amok?
Leave our land while you have a chance.
Nope! Just stop right there! Leave your pants.”
From hatred and theocracy
I quickly ran away toot sweet
When I returned to hotel room
My wife just laughed at tale of gloom
Completely void of alliance
She said to me, “I told you so.
Guilelessly venture to unknown?
You are stranger in a strange land,
Like Michael Smith Valentine.
Next time heed pragmatic advice
Don’t go alone; not worth the price.”
No more venturing out for me
I’m as domestic as can be
If you doubt my sincerity
Then you’d be right as you can be
Let’s live our lives as giants