Revealed beneath her seventh veil:
A poem on her *** in Braille.

My fingertips caressed that verse
And read her lyric universe.

An astral plane of swelling curves:
Her lyre well-strung to calm my nerves.

My lovely muse ! All lettered charms
Grow warm in her angelic arms.

Her noble face, her tawny cheeks
Bestow the balm my spirit seeks.

Bright thoughts arise, and glowing, pass
Upon the volume of her ***.

This procurer of underage tail
made the Post, and then later, the Mail  
Let us sing our refrain
for recruiter Ghislaine:
we would like her detained without bail.

While her In-N-Out burger went cold,
Madame Maxwell was looking quite old.
Let her smile for the Times;
and then pay for her crimes
after all of her secrets are told.

Jeffrey Epstein is gone. Suicided?
The conclusion is still undecided.
A libidinous god . . .
or a jewel for Mossad?
The tribunal is deeply divided.

Mr Epstein is gone... wonder where.
Is he dead? All conjecture is fair.
Was that him on the slab?
We all hoped we would blab;
his declassified secrets to share.

How can "parents"
Allow their daughters
To waddle around
In hotpants
Or sweats
With dubious messages
Printed on their ***?

What do they expect...
And why should they react
When I ask the little lady
To bend over and hold it
So I can read it?

Butter-baste in haste
For better poet-taste
Reposting pastry
Poet-tastery
Pronounced as mastery:
Poetastery

Past repast
It goes down fast
Poetic firsts shall be last
Lyrically-paced
Poetry-based
Poetry's straitjacket, unlaced
Lack of meaning showcased