Today's poems [10.13.20]
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The bustard's a fortuitous fowl,
Who has but small reason to growl.
He avoids illigitemacy
By the simple expediency
Of the use of an alternate vowel.
The nephew of one of the czars
Used to suck off Rasputin at Yars,
Till the peasants revolted,
The royal family bolted -
Now they're under the sickle and stars.
While Titian was mixing rose-madder,
His model posed nude on a ladder.
Her position, to Titian,
So he climbed up the ladder and had 'er.
A horrid old lady of Summit,
Every time she got laid had to vomit,
And although she would groan
When her man got a bone,
"Give it here," she would say, "and I'll gum it!"
"Now really, young man, you're a bore,"
Said a Lady Priscilla van Blore.
"I'm covered with sweat
And you haven't come yet
And my God - it is quarter past four!"
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