Oh, Those Jerky Pests and Perky Breasts
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 © James Starkey III | Year Posted 2022
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