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.
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.
Right on! And thank you for reading. Much appreciated.
If you would’nt mind please go through my poems and please do follow if you find it worthy. I’d be honored.
For sure. I’ll check it out.
Thanks Captain