What I Say When You Call Me A Homosexual Poem by Mark R. Rachman

I've met a deer that frolicked on the radio,
Lions that roared, pouncing on a stereo.
Macaques, that multiply, with intimate objects,
Boars that attack, built with little progress.
Danced with the flamingoes all step by step,
Hustled with the ibexes all left, right, left.
Saw the hippo, acknowledged, and dodged it,
Could smell the cougar, old, shot; caused it.
If you break down the word, 'one sex', well good luck,
The forest when the light breaks is to the brink, now duck.