Thong

Okay, this one did my head in when I came here.

Thongs.

You know thongs, like the G-string thongs?

Yeah.

Steps off the bus.

Thongs, as in flip-flops, not a G-string.

Americans call flip-flops.

No, Americans call thongs flip-flops.

Like, my God.

And not only that, it's a big thong.

Thong, thong, thong, thong.

Yeah.

This is just crazy.

Think about that young woman from New Orleans.

It's a thong.

Thong song.

Thong too, don't you?

Thong also.

Hot dog too.

I know why.

Nothing but maybe panties.

Thong.

That ain't naked.

I mean, but.

I ain't walking around with my titties out.

That's what I'm saying.

Thong on, titties out.

To me, that's kind of naked.

Men that wear thongs don't pay money back.

Thong-wearing men do not pay money back.

Why not? I don't know.

It's just a rule, Shirley.

Time past she has been attempted And pursued by many blows and banes, But now here's Raw a wilder beast from West than all were, More rife in her wrongs, more lawless and more lewd.

Her Perseus linger and leave her to her extremes? Pillowy air he treads a time, And hangs his thoughts on her, Forsaken that she seems, All while her patience Morseled into pangs mounts, Then to a light disarming No one dreams, With gorgons, gear, and bear-bill, Thongs and fangs.

End of poem.

This poem is in the public domain.