XenoxNews.com Classic #Poetry

Created: Tuesday, 04 September 2012 Written by Tex Lumbago

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During our many years of publication XenoxNews.com has been a welcoming home for poets and their poetry. In fact we love poetry so much we have a whole section dedicated to it: http://www.xenoxnews.com/artist/poets-corner


Unfortunately not all our poetry can be found there; and in fact some rhymes that grace our pages can slip from view with the passing of time. So I have decided to resurrect some of our best (and worst) from the archives so you, dear reader, can appreciate the wonder of XenoxNews. com Poetry!



Here is a classic from Old Lonely Leo. He was inspired to write after the Howard Government reneged on their promise to wipe the GST from tissues:

For some naked vixens on the screen,
I emptied my sack of its semen.

Now I sit alone and wonder...


Oh Lord! For what have I spilt my seed?


I watched them frolic and insert in each other,

Devices plastic, see through, and green.

But now my keyboard is wet and my hands still sticky...


Oh Lord! For what have I spilt my seed?

 

Other ditties are perhaps not so graceful. In fact they are downright offensive. Take this example from our resident hillbilly Ricardovitz. It is gross and despicable; but what euphony! You can always substitute your most disliked person(s) in place of the rascist epithet he uses:

 

The other day I took a fishin' trip
Just me and my boat, and no Banjo lip
Banjo was my guide, an old colored feller
He wasn't very dark, he was a high-steppin' yeller
So we launched my boat, and I cranked my motor
And up to my nose came a terrible odor
I looked around, tryin' to find somethin' dead
But it was Banjo with his arm up, scratchin' his head

Some niggers never die

They just smell that way

Now the more he'd scratch, the more he'd sweat

And I'm here to say he was-a-chokin' me to death
So we loaded up, I just couldn't go o­n
And I coughed and I gagged, all the way home
When I dropped him off, I was next to dine
My nose was-a-runnin, and my eyes were-a-cryin'
The smell scorched the hair right out of my nose
When I got home I had to burn all my clothes

Some niggers never die

They just smell that way

 

Not much you can say after that, is there.

Except to let you know that I will be ferreting out more classics over the coming weeks, so keep your eyes open for XenoxNews.com Poetry!