Short Hooters Poems
Short Hooters Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Hooters by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Hooters by length and keyword.
Trump loves polluters and looters
(Targets for NRA shooters)
Whilst we are distracted
Our POTUS enacted
Investigation of Hooters
Fantastic firms aka looters
Make polymers and are polluters
Their products break down
Spread all over town
They even serve plastic at Hooters
FORGOTTEN:
callow youth
literacy learnt
a remote childhood
dark nights at play:
meadow flowers
hooters and the
school bell
bonfires
snowball fights
rusty bikes...
A lady named Sue loved St. Patrick's Day
and marched in a parade that holiday,
after eight whiskey shooters
she showed her tattooed hooters...
those two smiling leprechauns led the way!
T-asting
O-ne
R-eward
O-r
N-BA
T-itle
O-ffers
R-apture
A-s
P-layers
T-riumph
O-ver
R-elentless
S-hooters
Topic: NBA Champions (June 14,2019)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Photo: Google
Right arm is missing or that's how it seems
Could be worse but it's as bad as it's been
No telly, no 'puter
All I think of is hooters
Which ain't all that bad, in fact it's kinda keen
Right arm is missing or that's how it seems
Could be worse but it's as bad as it's been
No telly, no 'puter
All I think of is hooters
Which ain't all that bad, in fact it's kinda keen
Right arm is missing or that's how it seems
Could be worse but it's as bad as it's been
No telly, no 'puter
All I think of is hooters
Which ain't all that bad, in fact it's kinda keen
Right arm is missing or that's how it seems
Could be worse but it's as bad as it's been
No telly, no 'puter
All I think of is hooters
Which ain't all that bad, in fact it's kinda keen
© Jack Ellison 2015
Shop bells tinkling from eight 'til late
queuing customers having to wait;
Thursday,closing at noon
opportunity to court and spoon.
Collection boxes built into walls,
gossiping ladies in their shawls;
Bells pealing on the hour,
drays pulled by one horse power.
Factory hooters' blowing
Moring cocks' a crowing;
Cycle bells a-ringing,
Food home delivery a-bringing.
Shop bells tinkling from eight 'til late
queuing customers having to wait;
Thursday,closing at noon
opportunity to court and spoon.
Collection boxes built into walls,
gossiping ladies in their shawls;
Bells pealing on the hour,
drays pulled by one horse power.
Factory hooters' blowing
Morning cockrels' crowing;
Cycle bells a-ringing,
Provisions from vans' a-bringing.
When it came to chesty women, I was obsessed.
I wanted a woman who had large breasts.
Now I'm 75 years old and I have something to confess.
I am an old man and I've grown large breasts.
These aren't the kind of boobs that people want to caress.
I put on a 38D bra when I get dressed.
People stare at these big hooters that I've grown.
I no longer need a busty lady because I have big breasts of my own.
(THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM.)