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Poem
Twittered Via Chilled Wren
At Valley Forge, Pennsylvania

Prior carte blanche to confessing illicit
     extra-marital affair
I embolden tomb ache
     elicit, and baldly bare
faced laid out some
     of the sordid details clear
embarrassed at one escapade
     in particular constituting dear

peppy's questing randy romping caper
     necessitating vigilance 'ere
a park ranger, (or other unsuspecting
     winter weather way
     Farer attired in gear
adequately bundled
     cold as a witch's tit
     seasoned trooper) 
     reluctantly repeated here

(unforgettable if only be
     cause this "FAKE" Casanova ace
thee Missus i.e.wife)
     did conversationally chase
beseeched, hen pecked,
     and implored me NOT to erase
boot to recount with (itty bitty)
     Monty Python glory, a straight face,
that one particular amazingly grace

obviously penned up, 
     and not in the write
mind (pre poetry daze),
     which scurrilous anecdote
     did (and still does) in vite

guffawing, sans
     peculiar public philandering,
     with atavistic cave man
     designs tried to unite
where daunting phallus spite

confronting Arctic Vortex when right
lee let loose from pants
     froze like a little popsicle quite
purposely remained flaccid

     leaving me in a penile plight
when trying to hump
     (standing up like a good Knight
comically ridiculous travesty)
     With Barbara B****, light
of adventurous Green Beret spirit, the
     Unabashed MILF about average height
fifty years, whose busty bosom

     silicone breast implants
     tell tale viz radiation
     and chemo therapy fight
(resulting from post
     Ductal Carcinoma in situ)
needless to tell
nary an erectile spell
Asper tinker soldier
     tailor spy didst quell

basic animal instinct,
     and feral gonadal horniness
with intent to consummate sexual intercourse
     according tummy ought to occur,
     cuz that blustery air
     mirroring said day when hell
nearly froze over invoking
     intervention from Cain and/or Abel.

Thus when prick remained
     limp and nearly frost bitten
(at a boulder christened cock rock),
     aye frostily smitten
slogging wet sneakers, thru
    knee high snow...now, no mo' tubby written.
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