A certain young man of St. Paul
                            
                    Consistently practiced withdrawal.
                            This quaint predilection
                            Created such friction,
                            
                    He soon had no foreskin at all.
                            

There was a young fellow named Lancelot
Whom his neighbors all looked on askance a lot.
    Whenever he'd pass
    A presentable lass,
The front of his pants would advance a lot.

I think that I shall never see
A billboard lovely as a tree.
Indeed, unless the billboards fall
I'll never see a tree at all.

   --Ogden Nash, "Verses from 1929 On"

                    In the soap opera heard in Gomorrah,
                            
                    The heroine wakes up in horror
                            To find that a prick
                            Nearly three inches thick
                            
                    Is halfway up her tune-in-tomorrow.
                            

There was a young girl of Claridge's 
            Who said, "What a strange thing marriage is, 
                When you stop to think 
                That I've poured down the sink 
            Five abortions and fifty miscarriages!"