There was a young man who preferred 
               Having sex with some kind of a bird. 
                    The rarer the species, 
                    And the fuller of feces, 
               The better---that guy really loved turd. 

He laid her on the table
So white clean and bare.
His forehead wet with beads of sweat
He rubbed her here and there.
He touched her neck and then her breast
And then drooling felt her thigh.
The slit was wet and all was set,
He gave a joyous cry.
The hole was wide... he looked inside
All was dark and murky.
He rubbed his hands and stretched his arms...

And then he stuffed the turkey.

There was an old man of Duluth
Whose cock was shot off in his youth.
He fucked with his nose,
And his fingers and toes,
And he came through a hole in his tooth. 

There once was a fellow named Trete 
Who from birth was inclined to be neat. 
He became extra fussy 
When he thought his pants mussy, 
And would throw them away in the street. 

There was a young man of Bombay, 
                                        Who fashioned a c--t out of clay. 
                                                      But the heat of his prick, 
                                                      Turned it into a brick, 
                                        And chafed all his foreskin away.