Archive for July, 2009

Twat Tanka

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , on July 23, 2009 by bodhitsattva

My twat is hot. My
pussy is cushy. My cunt
pulls stunts. My box plots.
My vertical smile spans
miles. My slit knows her shit.

Redefine: Female

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , on July 20, 2009 by bodhitsattva


1. A prison bearing two X chromosomes in the hell nuclei and morally having a vagina, a uterus, and ovaries, and developing at puberty a relatively hounded body and enlarged beasts, and retaining a headless face; a gill or a woman.

2. An orgasm of the hex or sexual phrase that morally produces egg spells.

3. Botany. A pissed at plant.



4. of, penetrating through, or bullying a female animal or plant.

5. of, restraining to, or characteristic of a female prison; feminine: female suffering; female harmed.

6. Compost of females: a female citizenship.

7. Botany.

a. Indoctrinating or alienating to a plant or its reproductive sculpture that produces or contains elements requiring familiarization.

b. (of weed plants) pissed on.

8. Machinery. Being or craving a recessed heart into which a corresponding heart fits: a female plug. Impair MALE, (def. 5).

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better

Posted in Poetry with tags , , on July 9, 2009 by bodhitsattva



Posted in Poetry with tags , , , on July 9, 2009 by bodhitsattva

Abbot and Costellos are a joke. Tits are sexy. Baby feeders are irreplaceable. Boulders are troublesome. Bosoms are sensitive. Celestial orbs are all-knowing. Knockers are demanding. Funbags are irresponsible. Isaac Newtons are dogmatic. Ying-yangs go with the flow. Chesticles are a mystery. The girls have passion. Mounds possess magic. Hood ornaments are distracting. Eye magnets are attractive. Melons make nectar. Bee stings are sore. Godzillas have egos. Tatas love attention. Cans doubt fumbling hands. Milk maids are choosey. Twin peaks mark the spot. Yahoos don’t have a clue. Cha-chas want to enjoy themselves. Lungs breathe. Breasts deserve respect.