Today's poems [6.25.11]
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My face in the mirror
isn't wrinkled or drawn;
My house isn't dirty,
the cobwebs are gone.
My garden looks lovely,
and so does my lawn;
I think I might never
put my glasses back on!
There was a young lady of Dover
Whose passion was such that it drove her
To cry, when you came,
"Oh dear! What a shame!
Well, now we shall have to start over."
There was a young lady named Rose
With erogenous zones in her toes.
She remained onanistic
Till a foot-fetishistic
Young man became one of her beaux.
There was a young harlot named Schwartz
Whose cock-pit was studded with warts,
And they tickled so nice
She drew a high price
From the studs at the summer resorts.
Her pimp, a young fellow named Biddle,
Was seldom hard up for a diddle,
For according to rumor
His tool had a tumor
And a fine row of warts down the middle.
There once was a fellow named Dave,
Who kept a dead whore in his cave,
The smell was grotesque,
The pussy the best,
And look at the money he saved!
Sent by dave
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