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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Discordant Duet

You give to me purpose,

Your touch brings me life,

And with trebly crescendo I cry.

I trill at your tickle,

I fit as you finger me,

Practiced with prowess most spry.

Inside of me, trembling,

You hammer away

On my heartstrings, as gently you croon,

In my belly, vibrations

Of bass tones so sharp,

With my tenor you’re always in tune.

Glistening black

Upon delicate white,

Baby, grand is our tender vignette.

I love when you use me,

I lust to be played,

Like a lover’s discordant duet.