Umbrella’s lighter offshoot

Chris Childers
Jan D. Hodge
M.A. Griffiths
Janet Kenny
Ralph La Rosa
Robert Schechter
Rose Kelleher

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by various authors

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall
but when I crap I like a private stall.

Fly envious Time, till thou run out thy race
and thy behind approximates thy face.

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
the same could be said about your mammary glands

I have been one acquainted with the night.
That’s why at my wedding I felt it would be hypocritical to wear white.

Some that have deeper digged love’s mine than I
Seem to have staked their claim on your inner thigh.

Life, like a dome of many colored glass,
When sat upon will lacerate your ass.

That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall.
It’s time they scrubbed this toilet stall.

I’m nobody! Who are you?
”I’m somebody. Wanna screw?”

I taste a liquor never brewed—
Inebriate of air—I’m Nude!

I heard a Fly buzz—when I died—
Le petit mort—oh—what—a—Ride!

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree
and fondle Maude Gonne's daughter on my knee.

In pious times, ere priestcraft did begin,
it wasn’t half as interesting to sin.

O, hurry, where by water, among the trees,
Cystitis weaves her Mysteries.

When lovely woman stoops to folly,
I want to meet her there, by golly!.

For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love!
Your cries will wake the neighbors up above!