[Reprinted from The Word, September 1889, p.3.
Of all the Trusts that men have framed
From yellow gold
To charld dust
Within the fold
Of legal 'must,'
There is no older can be named
Than licensed Love--the Penis Trust.
The rampant bull, salacious goat,
And rooting boar,
In passion's gust
Like many more,
Get rid of rust
Without a Comstock taking note
To curb their freedomin a Trust!
They, like the farmer moving West
Their flagstaff raise:
'Pike's Peak or Bust!'
Then once more graze
Though Nancies cussed
That they should think their own way best
Than joining in a Diddling Trust!
Though Comstock rave and Nancies wail
In legal lore
Is it more just
Behind the door
Than open lust?
Tho' you thereby escape the jail,
E'en if you're in a Penis Trust!
Whate'eve Miss Nancy morals doubt,
'Tis Nature's freak,
And there's no 'must'
To hide and seek,
Nor term it lust,
Because some priest with shirt without
Has failed to bless your Penis Trust!
Dyer D. Lum
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