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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