They blocked The Henk and his pool grew narrow, shallower every day.
He missed his bevy of naive babes, captive to his way.
He scrolls but there’s nothing in sight of a soft face or winsome smile,
No gentle hands or exposed midriff to tease him gently through his trial.
Where are the honeys he liked to torment with his ball-cupping antics?
Why have they all quit Tinder and his sexual semantics?
‘The women are long gone!’ says Henk and sadly shakes his head.
‘I’ll have to buy a cantaloupe and fuck a hole in that instead.’