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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