Hit Title Date Added
Drum Beats

My sweetest pie of berries,
If you, on this occasion,
take out my heart
(just help yourself) by

Mother's Day

At eighty-four
she is not old.
Though she denies
some salient facts,

The Double Helix

The double helix, yes.
Talking genomes here,
genetic fiddling,
all are four letter words,

For Her

There was
a time
where laws
of rhyme


He had released a bit of gas
and felt a need to scratch his ass.
He was in public and he stank,
considered it a youthful prank.

The Vicar's Laxative

There once was a Vicar named Groon
he was raised with a true silver spoon.
And at bedtime he'd take
for his haemorrhoids' sake

Jerry The Limerick

He has grown, in the clinic, a beard
but the stubbles are rough and much feared
by the soft, peachy skin
of both cheeks and her chin,


He slept the dream of ethanol
and when he woke, his battered soul
was in a mood too foul to bear
as vomit stuck in his gray hair.

Happy Birthday, Andreeeeeeas!

There once was a fellow named Gripp.
He let poems roll over his lip.
With the Kraut in his genes
he has more than the means

Prime Time

Well, Max, you wouldn't understand,
a dog is not a human, after all.
I'm in my forties, says my gut
and the chronology, it matters not,

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8/2/2021 7:57:46 PM #