There was a young man of Natal
Who was fucking a Hottentot gal.
Said she, "You're a sluggard!"
Said he, "You be buggered!
I like to fuck slow, and I shall."
Once was a tattooist named Clarke
Whose urge to render was stark.
He put roses on hogs
and bare-shaven dogs
And nudes on drunks in the park.
There once was a writer named Twain
Who had a peculiar stain
Surrounding the head
Of his prick, it was red
And it was said to wash off in the rain.
There once was a queen of Bulgaria
Whose bush had grown hairier and hairier,
Till a prince from Peru
Who came up for a screw
Had to hunt for her cunt with a terrier.
There was a young fellow named Bouch
Who inveigled a girl to a couch.
He said, "Pretty young miss,
I will take you, I wiss,
Horizontally, veritcally, crouch."
By voting you are helping select today's best poem. This helps us provide you with better quality humor in the future, as well as to select the best poems to send in our daily best humor mailing.
Today's JokesToday's StoriesToday's Quotes