Copyright © 1998 Walt Zientek

I'm sitting home this Saturday,
(Wishing all the rain away,)
When in my mail, I should read,
Dian's Post on "How to Breed!"

It seems to get the breeding true,
You "teach" the male what to do,
Commands are used! He gets it right!
(Forget the sweet romantic night.)

The male hasn't got a chance,
(No flowers, wine or slow, close dance.)
Bring him over, point the way,
"Get it done or go away!"

Nothing now is left to fate,
(even how the doggies mate)
Give a signal, clap your hands,
It's all, "Slam Bam, thank ya ma'am."

While reading this, (You know, us Guys,)
We see the metaphor's disguise.
And recognize the "breeder's tale"
Is intended for the human male!

You want to take the fun away,
Eliminate the way we "play."
Blame the hormones that we make.
Claim it is a big mistake.

Sorry ladies, you won't win,
Not the "mating game" we're in.
We'll never let you run our lives!...

But first, we'll have to ask our wives.