In Stitches

Today I had a ball,

Writing poetry about bitches

Alone in a bathroom stall,

Wondering why my nuts are in stitches.

 

Until I remember the accident,

About being bit by a rabid dog,

Not knowing the intent,

As my brain is in a fog.

 

This poem is going nowhere,

Late, late into the night,

You with a blank stare,

Because below my belt is an awful sight.