I met a girl the other day.
Brunette of hair,
soft olive skin,
straight Roman nose,
coal-fire eyes,
saliva lips,
majestic boobs,
go-easy hips,
baby-ass thighs,
threadbarest jeans,
percheron ass.
She greeted me
what lovely smile,
of glistening teeth,
though there was
something quite amiss.
One half of her
high cheekbone cheek
was bulging out
as if it hid
a fugitive
or trojan horse
it was so strange!
But soon I found
that when she talked
fate did permit
a glimpse.
She had a second
one in there
two tongues can't
live together.
I'd say your poem almost lives up to your own assessment of it - good fun. May the Great Prudential In The Sky protect and ensure your precocious talent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well, that ain't me baby. Seemed harmless enough, nice point too.