Welcome to my A to Zee,
A sinning tale of poetry.
These poets and these poetesses
Revealed in all their sex excesses.
So now you know, let us begin
To wallow in their endless sin,
Rakes and harlots, the odd tart.
Enough, it’s time, let’s make a start.
Arnold, Matthew was a cunt
A self-indulgent, obnoxious runt
Who’d rim your arse for twenty pee
Bollock laps thrown in for free.
Browning, Liz enjoyed the pole
Permanently stuffed in her arse hole.
She’d bob about it all the day
A squirming, self-abuse ballet.
Coleridge, Sam to all his friends,
Got by on sexual odds and ends.
A cock-let here, a twat-let there,
Whilst fingering his derriere.
Oh deary me, this is all quite anal,
And *whispers loudly* somewhat banal.
Dryden next, was an utter prig
Though fucked his sister with a twig.
A twig you cry, what complete tosh.
A stick maybe of genus lacrosse
Wielded by Ralph Waldo E
Pummelled into poor Ms D.
‘A cheating rhyme’ I hear you sob,
So tell us about Rob Frost’s knob.
A veiny, gnarly, lumpen muscle
And balls resembling sprouts of brussel.
Ginsberg, Allen jism receives
Whilst crawling around on his knees.
The bukkake queen of the poets, beat.
Each heated spurt a semen treat.
Seamus Heaney, now what a fella.
Would fuck whilst singing a capella.
Tone deaf voice, an awful lay,
All nasal snorts and spittle spray.
Ibsen, Henrik the Norwegian prude
Danced beneath fir trees in the nude,
His giant member a metronome,
Arm thick muscle and shiny dome.
Johnson, Ben for a special treat
Loved nothing more than kissing feet,
Adoring lips attending toes,
Dribbling and drooling with snuffling nose.
Keats, John lived the cuckold’s dream.
His wife employed a fucking team
To keep her busy day and night,
Whilst wanking John enjoys the sight.
Longfellow always wants his mature.
Saggy tits he doth adore,
A well-used cunt is his ideal,
Sloppy about his rod of steel.
Milton, John devout and pious,
Was accustomed to vaginal dryness.
Religious pussy nice and tight,
His mighty sword oft did smite.
Neruda, Pablo cheerleaders adored,
He entertained them by the horde.
Perky, bouncy and oh so supple,
And cunts that taste of honeysuckle.
Owen, Wilfred in muddy trenches
Was rather starved of willing wenches.
Hairy arses were sent instead,
A warming place for his cock head.
Pasternak, Boris couldn’t resist
A secret rendezvous, a lovers tryst.
Rumpled petticoats in a bower,
Sausage fingers stroking her flower.
Quasimodo, Salvatore,
Was a man who loved an orgy,
Though he himself was rather porgy,
By which I mean he’s obscenely fat,
His cock incapable of entering twat.
Ridge, Lola with twat aflame,
Desirous of being ‘on the game’.
Paid for sex in a whore’s outfit,
Rubbing lucre filthy on her slit.
Shelley, Percy suckled snatch,
Preferring most a pungent thatch.
Thick haired, and au naturelle,
On every wrench or local belle.
Tennyson, Alfred needed spanking.
The gentlest swat would leave him panting,
His buttocks glowing, reddened cheeks,
Stinging reminders to last for weeks.
Ulewicz, Laura the FemDom Queen,
Those beta boys she did demean,
Cruelly trapped beneath her heel,
Grinding harsh to hear them squeal.
Van Duyn, Mona was a cumslut,
Submerged herself in meres of smut.
No degradation too obscene,
Including activities quite unclean.
Wordsworth, William swapped his wife
Hoping for a better life.
Imported himself a Thai bride,
3 feet tall and 5 feet wide.
Xin Qiji wore an anal plug,
His muscles kept it nice and snug.
His wobbling arse a stretched delight,
His sphincter squeezed wondrous tight.
Yeats, W B devoured pussy for tea,
With an after serving of golden pee.
Droplets splashing on his skin,
Open mouthed and soaking chin.
Zephaniah, Benjamin is still alive.
A lovely man, long may he thrive.
The last thing I would want to do,
Is give him any cause to sue.
And so my alphabets complete
With no mention of suckled teat.
So many poets and poetesses,
Missing, deprived, lacking caresses.
So if you’d like to have a go
Use the comments space down below,
Create yourself a snatch of verse
Ensuring that it’s always perverse.
Thank you for reading
