Today's poems [11.13.07]

Vote for the poem that you really like by checking a box next to it. Then press the VOTE button to submit your votes. Also, links to poem categories and "Send to Friend" will open in a new window, so as not to interrupt your poem reading.

                    Once was a tattooist named Clarke
                            
                    Whose urge to render was stark.
                            He put roses on hogs
                            and bare-shaven dogs
                            
                    And nudes on drunks in the park.
                            

            To an ancient divine of Tyrone 
            Was the art of rebushing cunts known. 
                In each cunt he would ram 
                A fine, prime raw ham, 
            And then deftly extracted the bone, 

Tombstone Epitaph In a Silver City, Nevada, cemetery:
Here lays Butch,
We planted him raw.
He was quick on the trigger,
But slow on the draw.

SOCIALLY CONSCIOUS PORNOGRAPHY

We've socially conscious biography,
Esthetics, and social geography.
    Today every field
    Boasts its Marxian yield,
So now there's class-conscious pornography.

Oh, the worker is nobody's fool,
For by rights he's the man with the tool.
    His ponderous prick'll
    Arise with the sickle,
And bugger the Fascists who rule.

Miss de Vaughan was a maker of panties
For all girls from subdebs to grand-aunties.
    Her very best ad
    Was herself, lightly clad
In her three-ninety-five silken scanties.

So this wench is a capitalist,
She's our villain and ought to be hissed.
    But she's lush and she's plump,
    And a glimpse of her rump
Would teach Marx that there's something he's missed.

Now de Vaughan had resolved on a lock-out
To give Communist Labor the knock-out.
    She said, 'Fuck the foul fools.'
    (She'd attended good schools),
And took a fresh bottle of Hock out.

Joseph Smith was a sturdy longshoreman
(And an eminent amateur whoreman).
    Just to be sympathetic
    He grew peripatetic,
'Til his picketing irked de Vaughan's doorman.

For this lout was a scab born and bred,
Who fainted whene'er he saw red:
    In distress he reported,
    But she only retorted,
`Run home and hide under your bed.'

For her plans were peculiar and wicked,
As she thought, `He's a man, if a picket.'
    She lured him inside
    And insidiously plied
The prick of the picket to lick it.

Joe's rod was stiff as a rail,
But he couldn't let principles fail.
    `You degenerate bitch,
    That's a trick of the rich;
But the people prefer honest tail.

`You may tickle the cocks and the vanities
Of the rich men who purchase your scanities,
    But the proud People's front
    Calls for sound hairy cunt.
So it's down with de Vaughan's panty-wanities.'

He picked a soft couch in her office,
And tore off her pants and ripped off his.
    Then he showed her the rod
    Marks the difference, by God,
Between what a man and a toff is.

Now our Joe was the first proletarian
Who had filled with his sperm the ovarian
    Recess of de Vaughan,
    Which had sheltered the spawn
Of unnumbered Fascists, all Aryan.

Next day his friends said, `You've been soaring,
You're dead on your feet. Were you whoring?'
    He replied, `Starving masses
    Mean more than plump asses.
Last night from within I was boring.'

And de Vaughan thought her troubles were over,
Her picket had left (to recover),
    But he'd furnished her womb
    With incipient bloom:
A fact she had yet to discover.

So after nine months, to the day,
The employer in labor pains lay.
    As the boy hove in sight
    He yelled, `WORKERS UNITE!'
And the doctors all fainted away.

The moral of this is, my child,
By rich promises don't be beguiled.
    Remember that workers
    Are eminent firkers,
And go left, if you must be defiled.

Oh, pity the Duchess of Kent! 
               Her cunt is so dreadfully bent, 
                    The poor wench doth stammer, 
                    "I need a sledgehammer 
               To pound a man into my vent." 

By voting you are helping select today's best poem. This helps us provide you with better quality humor in the future, as well as to select the best poems to send in our daily best humor mailing.

But wait! Don't forget to read Today's Jokes Today's Stories Today's Quotes Today's Funny Pic   November '07 Poems Issues: S M T W Th F St 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30