Robert W. Service

Erico

Oh darling Eric, why did you
For my fond affection sue,
And then with surgeons artful aid
Transform yourself into a maid?
So now in petticoats you go
And people call you Erico.
 
Sometimes I wonder if they can
Change me in turn into a man;
Then after all we might get wed
And frolic on a feather bed:
Although I do not see how we
Could ever have a family.
 
Oh dear! Oh dear! It’s so complex.
Why must they meddle with our sex.
My Eric was a handsome ‘he,’
But now he—oh excuse me—she
Informs me that I must forget
I was his blond Elizabet.
 
Alas! These scientists of Sweden
I curse, who’ve robbed me of my Eden;
Who with their weird hormones inhuman
Can make a man into a woman.
Alas, poor Eric! . . . Erico
I wish you were in Jerico.

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