Dolores Has Lost her Clitoris

Dolores Has Lost her Clitoris

words: d h sterry

pictures: peter seward

One Saturday morning DoloresDelorosLost illustration copy

Discovered she’d lost her clitoris.

“Oh no! Oh my! Oh how can this be?”

“How could I lose my clitoris? Seriously?”

 

Her breath got short and her eyes grew wide

She panicked wobbly and shaky inside

She looked in her pockets and behind the door

She looked in each and every drawer

 

She looked in her sofa and under her chair

She even looked under her underwear

She looked in her pots and she looked in her pans

She looked in the cabinet where she keeps all her cans

 

She looked in her closet and under her shoes

She looked in the wet bar with her booze

She looked under her bed and under her pillow

She looked in the nightstand next to her dildo

 

She turned the house upside down

But her clitoris was nowhere to be found

She clenched her fists and fell to her knees

“Help me!” she yelled, “help me please.”

 

She dashed out to see her boyfriend

Sure he’d help make her misery end

“Oh please won’t you help me Boris,”

“I’m afraid I’ve lost my clitoris!”

 

A blank vacant look came over his face

As he stared off into outer space

“Hhm…” said Boris, “to be honest Dolores”,

“I didn’t even know you had a clitoris.”

 

Dolores shook her head and rolled her eyes

She gritted her teeth and let out a sigh

“Boris,’ she said, “I’ve had it with you

Once and for all, we’re through!”

 

“I’m afraid,” said Boris, “I’m a little perplexed.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to have sex?”

“Of course not,” she cried, “I don’t wanna sex.”

“I just broke up with you, you’re my now ex.”

 

“And besides, why would I?” yelled Dolores.

“I just told you I lost my clitoris!”

She got so mad she stomped on the floor

And on her way out she slammed the door

 

Then she went to her parents and rushed inside

“Mother I’ve something I must confide

“I’m going absolutely nuts,” cried Dolores,

“Mom dear, I’ve lost my clitoris.”

 

Her mom looked away and her face got red

She looked like she would rather be dead

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“And I just remembered I have to go out.”

 

Her mom grabbed her coat and ran out the door

Got in her car and went to the store

Dolores dashed off to speak to her father

Who was polishing his balls in the billiard parlor

 

“Dear Father,” cried a distraught Dolores

“Please help me, I’ve lost my clitoris.”

“Clitoris,” he muttered looking up from his balls

“That word’s not familiar, not familiar at all.”

 

“Please tell me, my darling Dolores,”

“What does it mean, this word ‘clitoris’?”

“Aargh!” cried Dolores, “you don’t have a clue!”

Then out of the room like a flash she flew.

 

She sped back home and jumped in her bed

And into her pillow she buried her head

Then Dolores cried and cried and cried

Till it felt like there was nothing left inside

 

Dolores fell into a long black sleep

That was terribly terribly terribly deep

And when she awoke she was no longer vexed

Confused upset peeved or perplexed

 

Dolores stretched and gave a yawn

As the birds sang in the beautiful dawn

When she ran her hands down to her thighs

Dolores got a tremendously surprise

 

Right there in her very own lap

Her clitoris was waking from a long long nap

“Come play with me,” cried her clitoris

“Come play with me dear Dolores.”

 

DelorosFound illusatration“There you are,” she cried ecstatically

“Oh, I’ve missed you so terribly.”

“I vow,” cried Dolores, “that every day”

“You and I will find time to play.”

 

“I’ll never take you for granted again

“From now on you’ll be my very best friend!”

“Oh joy!” cried her clitoris, full of glee

“Now come play with me immediately.”

 

It was a beautiful reunion for Dolores

And her sweet devoted clitoris

Together they found heavenly rapture

And together they lived happily ever after

 

 

 

About David Sterry

David Henry Sterry is the author of 16 books, a performer, muckraker, educator, book editor, activist, and book doctor. His first memoir, Chicken, was an international bestseller, and has been translated into 10 languages. “As laconic as Dashiell Hammett, as viscerally hallucinogenic as Hunter S Thompson. Sex, violence, drugs, love, hate, and great writing, what more could you ask for?” – The Irish Times.

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