James Casey

Rookie - 56 Points (11June 1940 / Binghamton, New York)

The Sailor - Poem by James Casey

Please be a good whore,
I said to the lass,
Don't never charge too much,
For that fine piece of ass.

You should charge less,
You know that it's true,
Cause all some hear music,
When you do, what you do.

You see I may be a Sailor,
So it's a tale that's really tall.
Sailor's make music when they make love,
Cause they have salt in their balls.

A Sailor, she thought a pirate I am
But, sailing the ocean never is quick.
'I was a salt until that fateful day,
That my ship was sunk by Moby's Dick.


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Poem Submitted: Friday, December 23, 2011

Poem Edited: Friday, December 23, 2011


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