Today's poems [3.16.13]

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There was an old fellow named Rapp 
            Who had a job all considered a snap. 
                In the insane asylum 
                He'd grade cunts and file 'em, 
            And bi-weekly he'd rub up their nap

A young Juliet of St. Louis 
            On a balcony stood, acting screwy. 
                Her Romeo climbed, 
                But he wasn't well timed, 
            And half-way up, off he went---blooey! 

               There once was a writer named Twain 
               Who had a peculiar stain 
                    Surrounding the head 
                    Of his prick: it was red, 
               And was said to wash off in the rain. 

               A patrician young fellow named Lear 
               Used to wash off his bollocks with beer. 
                    Said he, "By the gods, 
                    This is good for the cods--- 
               It will lengthen my fucking career. 

A horrid old lady of Summit, 
               Every time she got laid had to vomit, 
                    And although she would groan 
                    When her man got a bone, 
               "Give it here," she would say, "and I'll gum it!" 

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