Ode to a boob
adult

For years and years they told me,
Be careful of your breasts.
Don't ever squeeze or bruise them,
And give them monthly tests.

So I heeded all their warnings,
And protected them by law.
Guarded them very carefully,
And always wore a bra.

After 30 years of careful care,
The doctor found a lump.
He ordered up a mammogram,
To look inside that clump.

"Stand up very close," she said,
as she put my boob in line.
"And tell me when it hurts," she said,
"Ah yes. There. That's just fine."

She stepped upon a pedal...
I could not believe my eyes.
A plastic plate was pressing down,
My boob was in a vice.

My skin was stretched 'n stretched,
from way up by my chin.
And my poor boob was being squashed,
To Swedish pancake thin.

Excruciating pain I felt,
Within its vise-like grip.
A prisoner in this vicious thing,
My poor defenseless tit.

"Take a deep breath," she said to me,
Who does she think she's kidding?
My chest is smashed in her machine,
I can't breathe and woozy I am getting.

"There, that was good," I heard her say,
As the room was slowly swaying.
"Now, let's get the other one,"
Lord have mercy, I was praying.

If I had no problem when I came in,
I surely have one now.
If there had been a cyst in there,
It would have popped -- Ker-Pow!

This machine was made by man,
Of this I have no doubt...
I'd like to get his balls in there,
For a month he'd go without!!!