Ratt Boy's Poetry Page

The P*nis Poem

(The first stanza of this poem is well over 50 years old; when I first heard it, a couple of years ago, it was ripe for an update, so I added a second stanza.)
(Note: some net denizens, apparently without scruples, have appropriated this poem without attribution. While imitation is said to be the sincerest form of flattery, would it kill you to say where you got this? Plagiarism ain't cool, dude.)

     My nookie days are over
     My pilot light is out
     What used to be my sex appeal
     Is now my water spout
     Time was when, on its own accord
     From my trousers it would spring
     But now I've got a full-time job
     To find the blasted thing
     It used to be embarrassing
     The way it would behave
     For every single morning
     It would stand and watch me shave
     Now as old age approaches
     It sure gives me the blues
     To see it hang its little head
     And watch me tie my shoes

But hark! There might be hope here.
A cure, it's in the news.
Ol' Henry will stand proud again,
And end his hang-dog blues.
I can go and hit the clubs once more,
I'm older, but no wiser,
'Cause I'll be thinking with my Johnson,
And I owe it all to Pfizer.


For the math whizzes (from a graffito on an MIT men's room stall)
Take x, multiply it by two;
Times dx, now here's what you do:
   Integrate it between
   Limits ten and thirteen,
Solved it yet? Are you licked? Then you're through!

Not unlike Coors Lite
A gift only her parents could give her:
The thought of it just made her shiver.
    What her folks had achieved,
    Was that she’d been conceived,
In their favorite canoe, on the river.

There once was a young man named Keith,

A masochist, down underneath.
    It's often been said,
    When his girls gave him head,
He'd say, "Don't be shy; use your teeth!"

for RBB
There once was a man from Seattle,

And about his great love life he'd prattle;
    But the women were bored there,
    For none he had scored there,
You see: he had a preference for cattle.

Written 12/19/1998
The Congressman spoke up, so hearty,
Saying, "Here's why we impeach him, you smarty:
    It's not just the Bummer,
    Of the Lies or the Hummer;
Most important, he's not of our party!"

Lil Miss Beret
Sung by the Big Boffer (also written in December, 1998)

Lil Miss Beret had a trampy way
And her undie straps
Showin' Thongs -

A little head bob
'n' A little head job
Make a Prez do Wrong Wrong Wrong

There ain't nuthin' in DC
Like she done to me
To make me Catch The Bug
Make me Lie Like a Rug

Make me give into my shame
Make me sorry I came
Like a cad - Oh, Baby, that's-a what I like!

What's that, honey?
Pick you up at 8?
And ejaculate?
But......I don't want NOOOO...
Mess on a Dress.
Huh? Hunh? Hunh!
Oh, Baby, you Know what I Like!

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