Don’t forget Thelma
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Don’t forget Thelma
she's not well-ma
looks a goer
she's a whooer
loves a good
hard, prolonged arse-rimming
Tongue the bung
Licking the plate
licking the rim
swallowing the juicy
raspberry quim jelly
smeared around his
aunty's enormous blue
wide-gusseted bloomers, which
Fell onto her
fat, cellulite-scarred thighs
showed her shaven
haven, long unwashed
hence the bloomers
trapping the stench
Till she farted
creating a cocktail
Like mustard gas
not unpleasantly tangy
Overwhelmingly nasty smelling
Stinks of death
The Living Dead
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The Grateful Dead
eclectically styled angels
falling, flapping frantically
naked and proud
Running away quickly
with balls banging
jack the tripper
Old Mary waiting
old typhus hands
Touch of death
injected-with deadly Nightshade
High as kite
On the ground
A line of
Charlie, makes life
Far more fun
than picking scabs
Watching pus run
caressing Claudette's bean
Before grinding it
Then sealing grain
After serious strain
With soft brown