A girl’s pert thigh is delicious
Tingle-brain to the tips of my toes;
In cunt I see nothing seditious
A secret that everyone shows.
If the prick is but blood's treason
Then please to my mind tell me this;
How on earth do you reckon in reason
For the lack of your sexual bliss?
You can never get tired of Fanny
Though her owner might bore you to tears;
It's little short of something uncanny
What Dick likes when he's had a few beers.
If any man tells you he doubts
His empty old life is just a farce;
It's only love's rules that he flouts
So kick-in his balls through his arse
Copyright © 2011 Frank TALKER. Permission granted to reproduce and distribute it in any format; provided that mention of the author’s Weblog (http://poetryftalker.blogspot.com/) is included: E-mail notification requested. All other rights reserved.
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