He always slept so soundly <br />the night that followed Bundaberg <br />with Jersey milk, well mixed, <br />not shaken and not stirred. <br />And at first light he'd stretch <br />and scratch his stubbles, <br />reminiscing with a carnal smile <br />about the G-spots of his angels <br />and the hairy wombats of the night.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dreams-remembered/
