In which I am not even in residence
'The internet is for porn'
Avenue Q
At the weekend I went to Oxford to see some old friends. On Friday evening I met a bloke whose girlfriend was the writer in residence at the Linacre College. Since my tolerance for alcohol had decreased somewhat as a result of the quiet life I have been leading I had to be almost literally sat on to prevent me from rushing over there to read her the following poem that I had written on the train over.
Lines On Internet Pornography
I wandered like a data cloud
From server farm to server farm,
I read a comment on Youtube
Whose spelling caused me some alarm,
Then all at once I came upon
A load of really graphic porn.
A riot of ten inch monster cocks
Filled my screen from end to end
A stream of ads I could not block
Proudly showed 'explicit content'
They promised 'webcam sluts' and more
I clicked until my hand was sore.
I saw a girl who stood aside
Away from that bacchanal
The slightly pained look in her eye
As she did double anal
Convinced me it was wrong to stay
So though I looked I clicked away.
Now when I vacant pensive lie
With box of tissues near
It seems that in my mind I spy
Those images quite clear
It's just as wise men always warn
They tell us all quite solemnly 'The internet is for porn'.
Avenue Q
At the weekend I went to Oxford to see some old friends. On Friday evening I met a bloke whose girlfriend was the writer in residence at the Linacre College. Since my tolerance for alcohol had decreased somewhat as a result of the quiet life I have been leading I had to be almost literally sat on to prevent me from rushing over there to read her the following poem that I had written on the train over.
Lines On Internet Pornography
I wandered like a data cloud
From server farm to server farm,
I read a comment on Youtube
Whose spelling caused me some alarm,
Then all at once I came upon
A load of really graphic porn.
A riot of ten inch monster cocks
Filled my screen from end to end
A stream of ads I could not block
Proudly showed 'explicit content'
They promised 'webcam sluts' and more
I clicked until my hand was sore.
I saw a girl who stood aside
Away from that bacchanal
The slightly pained look in her eye
As she did double anal
Convinced me it was wrong to stay
So though I looked I clicked away.
Now when I vacant pensive lie
With box of tissues near
It seems that in my mind I spy
Those images quite clear
It's just as wise men always warn
They tell us all quite solemnly 'The internet is for porn'.