Warning: the following poem contains strong language, sexual situations, and crude humor. Reader discretion is advised.

She blew the tippy-top off
Of a sawed-through bluff.
Crabby patties get the wetties —
Kool-Aid Man expects a payoff.
Don’t forget to make the drop-off.

Whackitty-jackitty yak —
Yuckin’ it up with the yuppies, yep!

Shotgun white wedding,
Globetrotter jetting.
Bubble-butt busted —
Quit Elmer Fuddin’.
Porky laughs at her jokes:
“Tha-tha-tha-that’s all, folks!”

Not so into these blokes
Who wag wilted wet noodles,
Scoop shit for French poodles —
Narc-noggins bamboozle.
Matching-set talons akimbo;
Tail feathers tucked in no-go, so
You lift the hem of her bourgeois blouse,
To arouse the art of torrent-joust.
(Clip-a-da-lip-a —
Close her mouth).

Here’s the who, what, when,
Where, why, how:
“How come you can’t stop scrumpin’ my wife?”
“Cause Chastity only cheated twice.”

Let’s carve the truth into proof,
Baby Ruth.
Your chocolate’s like a kick in the tooth —

Presence decried
From essence divine.
Intuition, no inhibition.
Soul descends to
Trash the amends
Made folly through ends
And odds

Little pitchers,
Big ears,
Sheep sheared,
In the clear.

Run races with scissors.
Take risks —
Not prisoners.


© Jane Bled 2016-2018
All Rights Reserved.

Eat My Shit © Jane Bled