Friday, September 23, 2016

Marry Me, Hot Stuff

A marriage of heaven and hell would be swell:
to vent your unspeakable lust (and to tell!) –
then promptly to pay all your taxes as well;
to cast an odiferous spell, then to quell
the indelible smell, whose effects you’d dispel!

If I had to get married to hell, or the other,
and wasn’t compelled to reveal it to Mother –
I’d ask, if I had one, the pertinent lover:
“Which one would you marry?” & I bet he’d mutter:
“Oh, one is as bad or as good as another.”

“And how!” (Smart stud! I would have to allow.)
“Isn’t that what every marriage is now!”
Then to he who had size and was wise I’d avow,
while recalling our last hypersexual wow!
“Marry me, hot stuff. Be ‘I’ to my ‘thou.’ ”


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