deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Birds and the Bees
The Moon, the Muse, and every girl
All have a naughty secret that they keep
About the polishing of a certain pearl
That is with them as they divinely sleep.
It always comes to them in deepest dreams
Like a fountain that cools a fever
Composed not of water, but of thick creams
From some sturdy spouts that...cantilever.
Both Moon and Muse, with girl, conspire
To see that the fountains are upwelling.
That is their scheme to ENLARGE desire
In all of it's concomitant swelling,
Which gets a dose of some manly jism...
Blasting...into a feminine schism!
All have a naughty secret that they keep
About the polishing of a certain pearl
That is with them as they divinely sleep.
It always comes to them in deepest dreams
Like a fountain that cools a fever
Composed not of water, but of thick creams
From some sturdy spouts that...cantilever.
Both Moon and Muse, with girl, conspire
To see that the fountains are upwelling.
That is their scheme to ENLARGE desire
In all of it's concomitant swelling,
Which gets a dose of some manly jism...
Blasting...into a feminine schism!
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