Today's poems [6.6.09]
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Van Gogh found a whore who would lay,
And accept a small painting as pay.
"Vive l' Art!" cried Van Gogh,
"But it's too fucking slow---
I wish I could paint ten a day!"
A fellow who lives in St. Paul
Has one hexadronical ball.
The cube of its weight,
Plus his penis, times eight
Is his phone number; give him a call.
There was a young pair from Uganda
Who were having a fuck on a veranda.
The drip from their fucks
Fed forty two ducks,
Three geese, and a fucking big gander.
Part 2 of 2:
Then when she had wiped off her bung
Of the clinkers that thereunto clung,
She would singe off the hair
That had sprouted down there,
And would lick her twat clean with her tongue.
There was a young girl from nace
Whose corset just would not lace.
Her mother said, "Nellie,
There's more in your belly
Than ever went in through your face."
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