Her professions of love were all sham,
Cries of being hard up just a scam.
He suggested a fuck
Might perhaps change her luck
But, quite frankly, he gave not a damn!
Innocent until proven guilty
Not as innocent as she pretends,
What she’ll let you do rather depends…
If she likes what she sees,
She’ll say yes (or yes, please),
And decide then how far yes extends.
Good night, Sir Knight
Knightly heroes, in sonnet and ballad,
Saved maidens, soft, gentle and pallid,
From dragons and such,
Who said “Thanks very much!
Want a root?” (Strike out “virgin”. Not valid.)
That prepubertal look
Electrolysis, wax or just shave?
Bushy’s strictly reserved for the brave!
Modern girls by the million
Have gone the Brazilian,
The sign of the sexual slave.
Shaving’s tricky though; all that damn trouble
With razor and soap, froth and bubble,
The scratches and nicks,
Then, when somebody licks,
That embarrassing five o’clock stubble!
Book of the month
It’s your time of the month, and you’re bleeding;
You’re better off lying or pleading
A headache, some bug,
Than to pull out the plug.
Just say no and catch up on your reading.
Period. Full stop.
Bloody periods, monthlies, the curse!
Bloody tampons fall out of your purse.
Not much chance of a fuck,
A girl’s shit out of luck,
Nor of being gone down on, what’s worse!
Who’d be a woman?
“Men!” she said. “They don’t know how it feels!
Half starved all the time, skipping meals!
And waxing our pubes!
Saving up for new boobs!
Fucking g-strings, and fucking high heels!”
Venus and Mars
Said a puzzled young woman from Venus,
“This Homo’s a curious genus;
They hang round in bars,
Like those pricks up on Mars,
Paying women to sit on their penis!”
A warm day in a punt
Though her parents were watchful and doting,
One Sunday, at Oxford, out boating,
A fellow called Howard, her
Cousin, deflowered her,
Both, of course, secretly gloating!
Winner take all
Southern belle, Mississipppi’s fair jewel,
But cold-hearted, wicked and cruel,
On many a morning
She stood watching, yawning,
Two lovers engaged in a duel!