Today's poems [10.23.11]
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There was a young lady named Ransom
Who was rogered three times in a hansom.
When she cried out for more
A voice from the floor
Said, "My name is Simpson, not Sampson!"
The cross-eyed old painter McNeff
Was color-blind, palsied, and deaf.
When he asked to be touted
The critics all shouted:
"This is art with a capital F!"
There was a young lady of Andover,
And the boys used to ask her to hand over
Her sexual favor,
Which she did (may God save her!)
For her morals she had no command over.
There was a young man in Woods Hole
Who had an affair with a mole.
Though a bit of a nancy
He did like to fancy
Himself in a dominant role.
I'd willingly fertilize Mary,
And watch for nine months her shape vary,
From the very first day,
To the child-birth display,
When her tits would turn into a dairy.
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