Many link strange images on the page
then look to us with smug and sure smiles on.
Bold, thinking themselves a sage of this age,
these writers, with each script scribed, see beyond.
You, Innocent Reader, may not quite know
the tawdry working with a slut, liquor,
and a pencil they nightly undergo.
Retain the sinful trust that youre the bore.
So go and read them, legs uncrossed; no, spread,
and wonder at the curiosities of which they speak.
Think yourself the fool and bring it to bed,
stretch your thoughts until you hear them squeak.
Eventually you will come to find
these writers the john to your whoring mind.