Today's poems [3.12.19]
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There was an old hag named Le Sueur
Who just was an out-and-out whore.
Between her big tits
You could come for two bits,
And she'd fuck in any old sewer.
Have you heard of young Franchot Tone
Who felt of his own peculiar bone?
It was long and quite narrow
And filled full of marrow,
And less edible than stale corn pone.
The bishop of Winchester Junction
Found his phallus would no longer function.
So in black crepe he wound it,
Tied a lily around it,
And solemnly gave it last unction.
There once was old Chinese drunk,
Who set sail away on his junk,
While dreaming of Venus,
He played with his penis,
Till he floated away in the spunk.
A sweet young strip-dancer named Jane
Wore five inches of thin cellophane.
When asked why she wore it,
She said, "I abhor it,
But my cunt juice would spatter like rain."
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