**** ******, codger dodgers and skinny, Catholicky nuns know it:
lipstick reeks of *** that ain't a mix of beetle-wing slime & bat-****
while granny's shtupped on a V.W. bug dune buggy built from a kit
making it so Martin Luther King, Jr.-easy to be Bayard Rustin's flit
as the Southern Christian Leadership Conference was a ****** pit
before Laura Gemser duped Mike Landon with her Moira Chen bit
recounting plasma trails beneath cytoplasmic effections along a slit
so as to untangle & unfrazzle the tangled, frazzled ends that've split
what will move me further than from where me &  my *** must sit
Folks drunk on joss stick & punk got neurons that makes 'em crawl
There is proof  that Engelbert Humperdinck had more than one ball
when he sings queer-bait Tom Wilson Weinber's “Lesbian  Seagull”
in a voice that is not lesbian-seagull chirpy, ***-crippled-seagull dull
nor as exciting as a muffler's moan from a Sunoco's ****-house stall
whilst in 1945 Desi was balling chicas shorter than Lucille was tall
The constipated man of mystery suffers a clogged, unmitigated gall
as post office toilets aren't for public use like the ******* at the mall
where better offers are pointed like the politico scrawl of Mort Sahl
while sharp leaves that lacerate tails of wipers have softened in fall