Happily Cavort

When I cavort around the town
I often look for love.
But ask a lady: "Are you down?
"We fit like hand and glove!"
and you're as likely to receive
a whupping as a slap.
So I, although I've much to give
have almost given up

Confined to rubbing the old lamp --
It, frankly, has been years,
hand spasms up -- a wicked cramp --
A genie, though, appears.
He says: My friend, you need not fret
I know the Kama Sutra
and lest you have any regret
best know: I'm gender neutral

"Hold on!" I say. That tired trope,
you owe me certain wishes
and he is like: if there is soap
I'll also wash the dishes
"But wait!" I say and glance around
to search for an escape
and he says: oh, look what I found
and shows -- I swear -- a grape

Well, let's just say I was afraid
I thought I knew my tastes,
and though -- like all -- can use an aid,
I'm more for waspy waists.
I banished him, this genie friend.
I dare not see such sport!
And promise, for a happy end
to happily cavort

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