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Today's poems[12.13.01]
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There was a young man named Cattell
Who knew psychophysics so well,
That each time he shit
He'd stop, measure it---
It's length, and it's breadth, and it's smell.
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A geneticist living in Delft
Scientifically played with himself,
And when he was done
He labeled it: Son,
And filed it away on the shelf.
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A hermit who had an oasis
Thought it the best of all places:
He could pray and be calm
'Neath a pleasant date-palm,
While the lice on his ballocks ran races.
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A beautiful lady named Psyche
Is loved by a fellow named Ikey.
One thing about Ike
The lady can't like
Is his prick, which is dreadfully spikey.
Send this poem to a friend 4 There was a young fellow named Paul
Who confessed, "I have only one ball.
But the size of my prick
Is God's dirtiest trick,
For my girls always ask, 'Is that all?'"
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