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Oh, Those Jerky Pests and Perky Breasts

or What a Merry-Andrews! The hills are all alive with sexual drives, The sound of music being banging bugs, For singing songs to bone by each survives With forty thousand kinds of tonguing slugs-- Then after bumping uglies every fly, Mosquito, spider, mantis, tick, and ant Eat goodies still alive to versify For tiger beetles who a descant chant-- While eagerly a maw its baby swills As jaws devour its tender meat like wh*res, And lonely hearts head straight for other hills To music hear by yet a "god" who scores-- And who like yellow jackets right as rain With novices jacks off to one refrain. January 13, 2022 Rhyme (Sonnet) (English) (Shakespearean)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

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