Loyal readers will remember from my first entry that I've long been considering a name for my penis. Well, I've finally found the perfect name in the celebrated sonnet, "On first looking into Chapman's Homer" by John Keats. If you don't recall the poem, here is the text:


MUCH have I travell’d in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told 5
That deep-brow’d Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken; 10
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star’d at the Pacific—and all his men
Look’d at each other with a wild surmise—
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

The name I've chosen, as you may have guessed, is "Stout Cortez." Besides being richly suggestive, it is so perfect an articulation of my penis's essence that I cannot think of the phrase without thinking also of my penis. It is as if Keats had prophesied the coming of my penis (yes, I do believe in the concept of a visionary, prophetic poet); as if he were, with the phrase "Stout Cortez," using my penis as the subject of a word-portrait, if you will -- attempting to do with words what painters do with colors -- create the most subtle gradations of hue, the most delicate play of light and shade!