We, who possess keener wits than nits possess, throw not epic fits
confident that diarrheal maladies can be transformed to proper *****
& assured that surgeons will amputate exclusively agreed-upon bits
Afraid I've always been of bodies on V.W. frames ordered from kits
Mortified I appear to a woman who cares not where her fat *** sits
Upon the breakfast plate what wriggles & squirms surely ain't grits
Today I pray that I'll never be “lesbianized” in a lezzy's lezzy mitts
As I've no real preference for purple, pink, brown, or bloodshot ****
The Last Man on Earth consigned dead zombies to local, fiery pits
When transacting business with lesbians one must retain one's wits
Of course the same holds true for ****-divers, drag queens & flits
Lyndon Johnson's murderous record tied him to eight political hits
Wretch Ratch Wallace at 66 crapped out sans fuzzy, legalistic writs
His poly-lingual nature precluded Urdu, Farsi & lenguas Sanskrits
His argumentative bend roped him into ******, gynecological snits
Stunts in mining his woman's umbilicus gave wake to navel stints
Colored wheels of India shades ridges and stains with roguish tints