Mary had a fiancee <br />she called him Jack the Ripper, <br />because the fellow liked to play <br />all day with his own zipper. <br /> <br />When Mary found that it was not <br />the zipper he admired, <br />Jack searched all day for the small tot <br />until he grew too tired. <br /> <br />He held a magnifying glass <br />inside and lit his Zippo, <br />but all he did was burn his ass <br />and still there was no hippo. <br /> <br />Jack's grandma had instilled in him <br />that he would grow a beaver, <br />his brother, just a trifle dim <br />had married in a fever. <br /> <br />His brother's wife had come at night <br />and reached beneath the covers, <br />she thought it might be quite alright <br />if they became two lovers. <br /> <br />Jack did wake up and asked the ghost <br />might you be freezing cold, <br />he would, he said, play perfect host <br />and do as he was told. <br /> <br />She slipped inside the featherbed <br />and both were wide awake. <br />When suddenly young Jacko said <br />let's please play patty-cake. <br /> <br />It would, he knew keep arm and hand <br />and muscles in condition, <br />the girl then left, I understand, <br />she failed in this, her mission. <br /> <br />Next night the spiel repeated, true <br />and Jack had thought a little, <br />had sought advice from his own crew <br />and soon he noticed spittle, <br /> <br />which ran down from his double chin <br />and landed on his chest, <br />one party did expect a pin <br />to find the proper nest. <br /> <br />Soon both were sweating in pursuit <br />but it was like Houdini, <br />it might have been quite stout and cute <br />and not a little wienie. <br /> <br />At four Am, she left again <br />her hair and gown in tatters, <br />a beaver may not grow on men, <br />but it is size that matters.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/yes-size-does/
