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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