We heard a story
about a man
with a plan
to sell one testicle
to some scientists
for $35,000.
We immediately dreamed up
35,000 ways to spend that money,
knowing that it only takes one nut
to become dynastic.
One could invest just the right way – a little seed money – live a minimalist lifestyle on the residuals alone.
Or, one could start a non-profit dedicated to ending war,
The One Ball for All Life Foundation.
Or, perhaps a non-profit dedicated to preventing hunger,
Mission: Grocery Sack Everlasting.
Something,
anything,
everything achieved
by giving up
one,
precious
plum.
Alas, the google soon informed us
that we were out of luck.
This was a one-time deal
for a research project
testing the feasibility
of a prosthetic testicle
and not
the starting shot
of a gonad gold rush.
Dreams deflated then,
we resigned
to sell ourselves
the old-fashioned way:
a day at a time,
$8 an hour,
come what may.
Jason Preu 
Hahahahah. Sir this poem is simply hilarious. But still somewhere deep within i feel something about the man who was ready to sell his testicle for $35,000 but heyyy his intentions were noble. I like this poem a lot. In the midst of all the poems of angst and fear and love its very pleasing to read a jovial one. thank you.
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Right on! And thank you for reading. Much appreciated.
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If you would’nt mind please go through my poems and please do follow if you find it worthy. I’d be honored.
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For sure. I’ll check it out.
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Thanks Captain
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