Boys turn to girls. . .their pork to bun:
Gent girth—she-cleave sir thing.
Yes, severing that dart-like part
Prepares him soon for some quim room.
This wrecking of nature stings,
A pecklerless nature brings
First wreckage, then peckerage, not natal thing.

Boys turn to girls. . .remade as dames;
Let men their dongs destroy.
Doc steals the cock; a hill remains.
She-greet, this quondam boy,
She-greet, quo dam deploy,
She-gre-eet, she freed of meat, a quondam boy.

----------------------------------------

Now you’re a “him”; the furrow goes—
A “horn” on you is found.
“He” comes; on she a member grows.
No more “the curse” around,
No more the curse abounds,
Not any, not anymore the curse comes ’round.

He, once a girl, with boom in place;
The nay-nays are removed.
Grown mooring for a tightened nest
For plungerings of love,
New plumbing now for love,
New plumbing for plungering to make “him” love.