There was a young lass from Ignatius 
                                        Who lived in a garret quite spacious. 
                                                      When she went to here auntie's 
                                                      She always wore panties, 
                                        But alone in her garret,---good gracious. 

                    There was a young fellow from Dallas
                            
                    Who enjoyed doing things with his phallus.
                            So many tricks did he try
                            It became, by and by,
                            
                    Little more than a leather-tough callous.
                            

A prim young fellatrix named Prue 
               Said, "There's one thing a nice girl won't do. 
                    You may not touch my rear end, 
                    But if my up-here end 
               Appeals, there's a hole in that too." 

                               Ode to Alcohol
     
   
                        Starkle, starkle, little twink,
                        Who the hell you are I think,
                        I'm not under what they call
                        The alcofluence of incohol.
                        I'm not drunk as thinkle peep,
                        I'm just a little slort of sheep.
                        Tee martoonis make a guy
                        Fool so feelish, don't know why
                        Rally don't know who's me yet
                        The drunker I stay the longer I get
                        So just one more to full my cup,
                        I've all day sober to Sunday up.
  

There was an old sculptor named Phidias 
            Whose knowledge of art was invidious. 
                He carved Aphrodite 
                Without any nightie--- 
            Which startled the purely fastidious.