Friday, March 7, 2008


Do any think the notoriety
Is merited? It makes me retch.
It says a lot about society
That Spears and Co. can etch-
With camera shots by paparazzi
Who swoop in like they’re kamikaze-
Upon our minds the common things
Like dining out on chicken wings.
It might be news if witless Paris
Was pictured with her granddad's watch
The fob of which hung out her crotch.
Or, better yet, this flighty heiress
Who when they gave her crotch a click
It was revealed she had a dick!
But either way the notoriety
Is so insulting when compared
To those who benefit society.
These airheads who have hardly bared
Their pussies for a peek-a-booing
(Not even offering a screwing)
Want glory for the ill repute
Of flashing their forbidden fruit.
Attention deficit disorder
Which means how quickly we forget
Who wears the current coronet
Can be revived with a ripsnorter-
Don’t want to be dumped with junk mail,
Then do some time in county jail.
Our first celebrities were preachers.
In Sunday services out West,
They offered us both double features
And chances to relieve repressed
Desires and instincts we kept swaddled.
But Sundays these, released and coddled,
Were given birth from out the wombs
Of preachers- our Orlando Blooms.
Imagine life in Oklahoma-
The endless days of endless chores
The endless nights of husbands’ snores
And wishing you were in a coma.
Except for Sundays when desire
Was lit up by the preacher’s fire.
For preachers preached about the sinning
The Bible damned as so much lust.
A woman needed disciplining,
Though how was never much discussed.
On lonely nights she’d see her preacher
And dream about his creature feature;
How she might take it well in hand
And lead it to her Holy Land.
But dreams demand our understanding
Especially when her husband’s might
Was dead before the fall of night.
This left the preacher last man standing-
And he could teach her discipline
And pray forgiveness for their sin.

( to be continued )

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