Friday, May 30, 2008


O, horrible poems, I know I’ve wrote ’em,
But at least I’ve not written one about my scrotum.

Sure, I’ve written about Painful Rectal Itch,
A condition that most find an Obnoxious Bitch,
Or an even more evil and heinous complaint:
The dreaded Warhead that resides on the Taint.

I’ve rhapsodized on the strange, perverse beauty
Of crapping a perfectly Tapered Doodie,
Written verse on techniques for the Wipeage of Butts,
But at least I’ve avoided the Sack ’round my Nuts.

The Wrinkly Bag with the Crown Jewels inside,
That under the Meat-Stick doth happily ride,
Well, it “tain’t” a fit subject for song or doggerel
Unless the Author has slipped a coggerel.

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