Oregon Love (Or Why you Shouldn’t Settle For The First Pretty Face)

Her eyes were blue as Crater Lake,

Her breasts were like Mount Hood.

Her hair fell like Multnomah Falls

And all these things were good.

I held her hand and felt as big

And strong as Haystack Rock

Until my wife came home that night

And smacked me with her cock.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

Leave a comment