Philip Larkin

Mr. Douchebag
—for Philip Larkin

Inside the shack there’s—only room for books
“I’ll read it,” Mr. Douchebag always said
Mostly he read—paperback romances
He was in love with—even his asshole

The pills he took—make him constipated
So he douched himself—to get things going
Like Mae West did—for her Las Vegas acts
A cute masseuse—who gave her enemas

So that when Mr. Douchebag—got plugged up
Armando his cute—Mexican lawn boy
Shivered and shook off—the stinky nasty
Water-sports job—by getting a nice tip

Mr. Douchebag—bought a special toilet
It was a Lazy Boy—type of commode
With stirrups to keep—his feet in the air
And then Armando—with the garden hose…