Sourpuss

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‘Top a lemon tree, twiddling the stem,

of her ripening, juicy, sweet gem,

Clementine decked her-

-Self in sticky nectar,

And christened it “Crème de la Clem”.

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Hitherto had the hamlet suspected Clem

Of lewd conduct with citrus in Bethlehem,

But their slurs, she averted,

And tartly asserted,

“When life gives you lemons, have sex with them.”

lemonfinger

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Staszek The Strangler

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Staszek the Strangler stalked silently,

Subdued, Selma sat in soft satin,

She stroked shining shocks of short silver,

Smoothly, serpentine strands slowly slackened.

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Sinfully skilled, surreptitiously,

Stifling Selma’s soft sighing,

A single squeeze seemly sufficient,

Stoic, Staszek stood soundlessly smiling.

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