Today's poems [10.8.09]
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There was a young man of Bombay,
Who fashioned a c--t out of clay.
But the heat of his prick,
Turned it into a brick,
And chafed all his foreskin away.
There was a young brother monastic
Whose penis was somewhat elastic.
So when it uncoiled,
With a snap it recoiled,
Interrupting his studies scholastic.
There was a young lady whose joys
Were achieved with incomparable poise.
She could have an orgasm
With never a spasm---
She could fart without making a noise.
There was once a mechanic named Bench
Whose best tool was a sturdy gut-wrench.
With this vibrant device
He could reach, in a trice,
The innermost parts of a wench.
There was a young girl, very sweet,
Who thought sailors' meat quite a treat.
When she sat on their lap,
She unbuttoned their flap
And always had plenty to eat.
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