Today's poems [4.19.07]

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There was a sad prude out in Iowa 
               Who would say, "Please say it my way: 
                    Do not say fuck, 
                    It don't rhyme with duck. 
               Say untcay and itshay and uckfay." 

Part 2 of 3
Now, the Bishop was nobody's fool,
He'd been to a good public school,
So he took down their britches
And buggered those bitches
With his ten-inch episcopal tool.

If the river was made of whiskey,
And I a diving duck,
I'd swim down to the bottom,
And drink myself back up.

Sent by Amy

A Turk by the name of Haroun
Ate whisky by means of a spoon
To one who asked why
This turk made reply:
"To drink is forbidden, you loon."

Part 3 of 3
Then up spoke a lady from Kew,
And said, as the Bishop withdrew,
"The vicar is quicker
And thicker and slicker,
And longer and stronger than you."

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