Today's poems [5.31.09]
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He'd fart a gavotte for a starter,
And fizzle a fine serenata.
He could play on his anus
Oof, boom, er-tum, tootle, hum tah-dah!
There was an old man from Pinole
Who always got in the wrong hole,
And when he withdrew,
All covered with goo,
His temper was out of control.
Anna Hopewell's grave in Enosburg Falls, Vermont has an epitaph that
sounds like something from a Three Stooges movie:
Here lies the body of our Anna
Done to death by a banana
It wasn't the fruit that laid her low
But the skin of the thing that made her go.
There was an old gent from Kentuck
Who boasted a filigreed schmuck,
But he put it away
For fear that one day
He might put it in and get stuck.
There was a young person of Kent
Who was famous wherever he went.
All the way through a fuck
He would quack like a duck,
And he crowed like a cock when he spent.
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