Mail Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
The Scentbox had sprung a leak,
he sniffed the air and looked
to the outbox, swollen all week,
a breeze deleted the fur, he was hooked
and his cummint filled up the Inbox,
a forbidden word fell of his lips
they were going to sue off his socks
so he stooped just to take a few sips.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: lips
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8/24/2026 3:36:06 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
