Today's poems [7.14.07]

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A prudish young damsel named Rose 
               Is particular how men propose. 
                    To "Let's have intercourse," 
                    She says gaily, "Of course," 
               But to "Let's fuck," she turns up her nose, 

               The was a young lady with worts 
               In the most private of places, of course. 
                    She went to the doctor 
                    Who said he would shock her, 
               But voltage would not be the source. 

THE MORNING SONG....FOR NON-MORNING PEOPLE

I woke early one morning,
The earth lay cool and still.
When suddenly a tiny bird,
Perch on my window sill.

He sang a song so lovely,
So carefree and so gay.
That slowly all my troubles,
Began to slip away.

He sang of far off places,
Of laughter and of fun.
It seemed his very trilling,
Brought up the morning sun.

I stirred beneath the covers,
Crept slowly out of bed.
And gently lowered the window,
And crushed his fucking head.

Robert

There was a young lady from Niger,
Who smiled as she rode on a tiger.
After the ride
She was inside,
And the smile was on the face of the tiger.

Seeing my great fault

Through darkening blue windows

I begin again

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