Your porcine, puffed shirt
Wrestled free from your slacks,
That sagged like drenched sails
From your blubbery ass.
I must have been masked
By my thorough disgust,
For you cut right before me
to pay for your lunch.
Shocked numb by malodor,
I could not remark.
Count this poem as revenge,
You gooey bismark.
And should we meet again for our calorie fix
KARATE, KARATE, KARATE kicks.
Showing posts with label lunch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lunch. Show all posts
Friday, July 27, 2007
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