Today's poems [9.20.09]
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There once was a boring young Reverend
Who preached till it seemed he would never end.
His hearers, en masse,
Got a pain in the ass,
And prayed--- for relief of their nether end.
A maiden sat under a tree
And played with the lad's fiddle-dee,
His little wood post---
Soon her jewel is lost
From the casket where it used to be.
There was a young rump from Ra-cine
Whose bot-tom was in-ter-est-ing-ly keen.
No wig-gle or shook
It was hard as a book,
When it blos-somed I sqirt-ed my bean.
For sculpture that's really first class
You need form, composition, and mass.
To do a good Venus
Just leave off the penis,
And concentrate all on the ass.
There once was a lady, Ilene,
Who liver on distilled kerosene,
But she started absorbin'
A new hydrocarbon
and since then she'd never benzene
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