Dirty poems
Faster than a Speeding Bullet
At first,
it was a trembling,
Deep below, the rumbling
In my stomach, and bent my knees.
The tracks,
upon which my feet
did tred began to shake.
My toes could find no purchase.
Steadily it grew,
The timid thrumming,
Became a roar, thundering--(Bah, will have to finish this later, inspirato is lost!)
A Dirty Limerick
In need, I was, for a dirty Limerick,
To guide upon the art, to lick,
Though noble stead,
Great men indeed,
Still sometimes need a reminding kick.
It makes my heart sick,
That the worth of a gentle flick,
Is fast forgotten,
causing maidens to be trodden,
Underneath a hasty prick.
Some patience, if you please!
And on the pressure, ease.
And not so fast,
You want to last,
So learn to take a pause and tease.
And never! Without an offer in kind, demand a suck,
Or baring that, leap straight for a careless fuck,
Or be forwarned,
For a maid thus scorned,
Will eventually reap her revenge on the poor shmuck.
(I highly recommend,
you not ignore this trend.
Unless of course,
you're hung like a horse,
In which case, your best bet is at a mare's rear-end.)