Slappy Lazarus

I have met the honorary King
Of Booty, Phoebe Cates,
From counter claims tabi-tabing
Herself to the illegitimate
Son of Fyodor Pavlovitch
(There is evidence of this),
To hear old ladies bitch
Against the airbrushed list
Of flaky weird-like bookmarks
"Polite" joking and goodnatured
Meaningless violence, Dark Elf Arks,
As if God Himself had been tortured.
I have passed Megan's email address
On to Dr. Quicheo,
Shape shifting under duress
Styx, Journey and REO.

Boom! ... Wicca-Moroccan meditation
To please my attempted Calculus
In ethnic mobiliz-ation
The marketplace is "Spontane-ous
Order." Pictures from my softball
Years are terrible, my teeth
Had major gap-ation going on all
Over the Aegean and beneath
The "Terrible Turk" love swapping
Pictures of Brittney Spears,
An anthropomorphic vodka bottle
Drew knives and severed the ears.
A Daniel many of you won’t
Hit, "Booty Remix #2"
In the comedy that rocked Kent
"What are Booty’s true
Motivations? It is *Stumpy*,
The terrible." He too had
Experienced a rather bumpy
Paradise Lost flashing banner ad.
Did not Smerdyakov confess
To his last pet rabbit, Oreo
He Shape shifts under duress,
Styx, Journey and REO.

Hearts with a new sword winking
Wore a custard pie, and vamps broke.
Sabrina is the son of "stinking
Lizaveta." The tax code’s baroque.
Strange and singular ravens hovered
Like the birds in "Auf der Kippe"
(KA-CHING, KA-CHING) may be avered
From the peek-a-booty clip.
Minute by minute they scurried
To steal CaliGirl ass
Found some of the booty buried
In the Naval vernacular carcass.
Pounds of candy bars in a barracks,
That’s terrible, boys! Ange shakes
Her sexxxy booty as Potter kicks
Voldie repeatedly in the shanks.

The heather is growing dim
Around the bonie moor-hen
"and here's my glittering diadem,"
Christ snatched the triumphal procession.
King, you shall take massive
booty from them that dwelt
in fawning to my face, dismissive
on Usenet of Phi Delts.
To writhe wildly makes her chest
delts and triceps wake in a mare.
Abram marched home with the C'est
Toujours out of nowhere.
Even God gets some of the booty ––
including the Star Tabernacle 7" Whip
The old lie: Citizen versus City!
By Silver-Leg's ejaculated Hare-Lip.
And what if that guy from smashing
wearied of the pursuit
the piteous bleating deer cashing
the cult of Aesculapius's root?
I write it on my dress,
My interpreter Porphyrio.
Shape shifting under duress,
Styx, Journey and REO.