nonsense limerick

(somehow pornographic?)

from the sublime to the grotesque

thickety rickety plop,
effeminate lyrical glop
when driggling a rook
jiggle the shnook
til the ungulate mascula drops

but if reckoning klunder, you huff
at zanzibar’s flunderful muff
then hasten the verse,
(like shaq and the nurse)
because physic is faster, or worse:

the goolies drink wine at the Y
femonade'll be baked in a pie
don't ever flim flam
--that scuzz is a scam--
slick-wickery tickles your thigh

Palladio waxes a niglet
while Romeo yokes with a piglet;
the moons will balloon
with kaleidoscope poon
as they open up Venus to eedgits

so never go wokking abroad
except when evening odds
the reason is this: funicular bliss
—it musn’t be missed—
you'll flimmer and float up to god

and the breath of a geyser is air
which soaks the druidic au pair
whether putzing in forests, or fuzzing caloric
—none of it matters, 'cause
I can get skunked anywhere!