Today's poems [6.7.07]

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               I sat next to the Duchess at tea. 
               It was just as I feared it would be: 
                    Her rumblings abdominal 
                    Were simply phenomenal, 
               And everyone thought it was me. 

Seven wise men with knoweldge so fine,

Created a pussy to their design.

First was a butcher, smart and with,

Using a knife, he gave it a slit.

Second was a carpenter, strong and bold,

Using a hammer and chissel, he gave it a hole.

Third was a tailor, tall and thin,

With a piece of red velvet, he lines it within.

Fourth was a hunter, short and stout,

With a piece of fox fur, he lined it without.

Fifth was a fisherman nasty as hell,

He threw in a fish, and gave it a smell.

Next came a pretcher whose name was McGee,

Touched it and blessed it and said it could pee.

Last came a biker, dirty little nut,

Sucked it and fucked it and called it a cunt.


Sent by Christine

A fair haired young damsel named Grace
Thought it very foolish to place
Her hand on your cock
When it turned hard as rock
For fear it would explode in her face. 

                             Ode to The Bobbits
     
   
There once was a Bobbitt named John
Who thaught he was quite the Don Juan
His wife disagreed
So the next time he wee'd
John couldn't locate his wand.

Lorena wished John could be nicer
But he wasn't much of a de-icer
If she finds a new spouse
Let us hope he's no louse
Or we might have our first serial slicer.

A surgeon was filled with great tension
Trying to sew on a thing we can't mention
He stitched and he sewed
Used all the skills that he knowed
But the wee thing won't stand at attention.

John Bobbitt was never a loner
In fact, he was known as a roamer
His wife seized his prize
And cut him to size
Now he is his own organ donor.

There once was a crime most venal
One might say 'twas inches from renal
It wasn't for sport
That she made him so short
Her intentions were nothing but penal.

The Bobbitt case sure is a dilly
Though it sounds a little bit silly
He said she's the hacker
Who lopped off his whacker
She said she was trying to Free Willy.
  

John Penny's epitaph in the Wimborne, England, cemetery:

Reader if cash thou art
In want of any
Dig 4 feet deep
And thou wilt find a Penny.

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