1st the woman poem
Before I lay me down to sleep
I pray for a man who's not a creep
One who's handsome,smart and strong
One who wants to listen all day long
One who'll think before he speaks
One who'll call, not wait for weeks
I pray he's gainfully employed
So when I spend his cash,he won't be annoyed
Pulls out my chair,opens my door
Massages my back and begs for more
Oh,send a man who'll make love to my mind
Knows what to answer to "how big is my behind"
I pray that this man will love me to the end
and always be my very best friend.


Now the mans poem...
I pray for a deaf ,mute,nimphomaniac who owns a bar on a golf course
and wants me to go fishing or hunting every day.
This doesn't rhyme and I don't give a sh!t.

There was an old gal in the graveyard,
God damn her old soul she was dead,
the maggots crawled out of her asshole,
and the hair slipped off her head.
When I finished my job there,
I saw I commited a sin,
so from my pocket I pulled a straw,
and sucked out the load I shot in.

My AP teacher in high school touched on "gross imagery" and poetry,.... I don't think she could classify the above. I'm laughing, but I feel sort of guilty about it and a little green. Way to raise the bar.

I just threw up a little reading that. . . . mmmmm pizza!