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Today's poems[1.19.02]
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There was a young lady named Rose
Who'd occasionally straddle a hose,
And parade about squirting
And spouting and spurting,
Pretending she pissed like her beaux
She was seen by her cousin named Anne,
Who improved the original plan.
She said, "My dear Rose,
In this lowly old hose
Are all the best parts of a man."
So, avoiding the crude and sadistic,
She frigged in a manner artistic:
At the height of her pleasure
She turned up the pressure,
And cried, "Ain't it grand and realistic!"
They soon told the Duchess of Fyfe,
And her crony, the alderman's wife;
And they found it so pleasing,
And tickling and teasing
That they washed men right out of their life.
It was tried by the great Mrs. Biddle,
And she said to her husband, "Go fiddle!
Here's double the fun,
And you get three in one---
A ducking, a douche, and a diddle."
It was tried by the dancer, Di Basle,
Whose cunt was just made for a nozzle.
She said, "I admit
It's an elegant fit,
But of course it won't do for the arse 'ole."
It was tried by the Duchess of Porter,
And passed on by her to her daughter,
Who said, "With a leman
You're fearful of semen,
But a fuck's as effective with water."
Thus writes Lady Vanderbilt-Horsett,
Who invented the Lonely-Maid Corset:
"I thought all vicarious
Fucking precarious.
I was wrong. It's a whiz. I endorse it.
Soon in Paris, on the Boulevard Salique,
You sould purchase (complet avec talic,
Pour soixante francs cinq)
A short hose and a tank,
And they call it Le Fuckeur Hydraulique.
Send this poem to a friend 1
A chap down in Oklahoma
Had a cock that could sing La Paloma,
But the sweetness of pitch
Couldn't put off the hitch
Of impotence, size and aroma.
Send this poem to a friend 2 There was a young dancer, Priscillla,
Who flavored her cunt with vanilla.
The taste was so fine,
Men and beasts stood in line,
Including a stud armadilla.
Send this poem to a friend 3 There was a young lady whose joys
Were achieved with incomparable poise.
She could have an orgasm
With never a spasm---
She could fart without making a noise.
Send this poem to a friend 4 There was a young barmaid from Yale,
On whose bust was written the prices of ale;
And on her behind
For the sake of the blind
Was exactly the same, but in braille.
Send this poem to a friend 5