Today's poems [6.15.12]
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The bustard's a fortuitous fowl,
Who has but small reason to growl.
He avoids illigitemacy
By the simple expediency
Of the use of an alternate vowel.
The wife of young Richard of Limerick
Complained to her hesband, "My quim, Rick,
Still grows in diameter
Each time that you ram at her;
How can your poor tool stay so slim, Rick?"
Why, oh why, does this happen to me?
How did I end up stuck in this tree?
The ground down below looks so far away,
That if I would fall it would take me all day
To hit the ground, with a thud and a thunk.
And knowing my luck I'd land on a skunk.
So here I will sit 'til my dying day.
Or maybe, at least, 'til that bear goes away.
Another Month Ends:
All Targets Met
All Systems Working
All Customers Satisfied
All Staff Eager and Enthusiastic
All Pigs Fed and Ready to Fly
There was a young lassie named Phyllis
Was deflowered one night in a Willys.
Before they were through
Her spine was askew,
And I very much fear that it still is.
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