Cocky rhythm swing
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Cocky rhythm swing
expose your porker
Any Old Smutt
said Dame Edna
and Mary Whitehouse
d'you mean Shitehouse
I'd shit on-her
best ushak rug
with no regrets
I soiled her
hands with unusually
pungent puckered skin
callus-laden from wanking
encrusted with saltiness
from previous 'adventures'
on stormy nights
when passengers alight
use fire extinguisher
as a probe
for vicar de-robed
drink feck arse
said the vicar
to the tart
gently caressing the
knobbly protrusion between
the flappy flaps
flicking it slowly
to ensure maximum
egg sandwich pleasure
perplexingly silhouetted in
an inextricable contorted
but cathartic paradigm
betwixt, but flitterthorped
I fantasised about
having imaginary dreams
involving a nurse
who curses purses
in rhyming verses
poetic licence given
back to disqualified
Wordsmith With Whelts
stimulated my cucumber
grinding her rind
pleasured from behind
stuff that for
Salting back bacon
squeal piggy pig
hop on porky
for bestial bacon
coddle your eggs