Not quite the type to stay hooked on his phallus,
Neither the kind that would live in a palace.
Never been pretty, nor prone to poke fun,
When asked 'bout his past, won't cut and won't run --
Though he won't offer, he'll talk 'til he's done.

Tells of his time that he gave thought to the op,
Had one little problem, though, made him say, "Stop."
Heard 'bout a rumor that men can't get off,
Quite the same way that we girls! *smile and cough*
Better, and longer, and hassling the 'Hoff!

"Hey, wait just one minnit!" sez my manly friend,
"Just how is that fair? They've just got a dead end!
No frickin' way that I can tell Pastor."
Went to see Grandpa, Confucius Master,
Over his private, way big disaster!

He put to his ancestor his burning thought,
Then waited outside to see what had he wrought.
Worried and pondered and rubbed at his chin,
His grandfather's voice rung out 'bove the din,
'Dude lacking penis like shark with no fin!'

When Grandfather turned out whole lack of help,
He went to see mother -- not father, who'd yelp.
Spoke of the future and of his resolve,
(Argh! All the other things ending in -olve,
Mess with my story: revolve and involve...)

Sed, 'Surely salvation should be close at hand,
Know fear to dwell safely at home in this land.'
All in all Momma had words to becalm,
Then again mothers are always a balm,
Then she admitted she re-phrased a Psalm.

Our poor dear downtrodden and heroic boy,
Found him a storefront that sold an, um, er, toy.
Has his own lady -- don't misunderstan',
Knows of his problem and stands by her man,
Of his new toy she became a big fan.

He knew his decision to become a guy,
Would be lots of trouble but he had to try.
Their love life was stilted due to his lack,
And when his new toy was fun in the sack,
Two-headed dildoes became their new tack.

His one big regret in the life he'd not crave,
Was that he'd sure miss it, the 'riding the wave!'
This new improved tool be all he'd now need?
The idea was odd, but picking up speed,
His girlfriend, for sure, a beast that was freed!

I ask you, dear reader, is he less a dude?
He's scratching and belching, and sometimes quite crude!
I know a Transman who's witty and fun,
Rough, tough, and virile but not overdone,
This tale, though funny, is still a true one.

In my own opinion, he's still 'such a guy,'
Pulls pranks on his fellas, like, "Zip up your fly!"
Sad fact remains that he hasn't a schlong,
But calling him 'girl' is just plain dead wrong,
His logic for non-op: a needless dong.

His solution's elegant and quite refined,
His mammaries cut off, so no need to bind,
Nothing inserted where sun never shines,
He doesn't have what it takes to make signs,
In the fresh snowfall unless it's with Heinz.