Friday, August 14, 2015

Plain Jane vs. Lois Lane

I’m sitting next to Lois Lane,
on a first-class plane, an upgrade from plain Jane.

Superman on chest,
flying high,
in-the-clouds we’ll rest.

Lois is giving me a grin,
I’m giving her gin,
she’s looking a ten,
grooming her Moscow Mule,
while drinking from a tin.

Jane’s thighs drawing nigh,
Lois drawing nearby,
in the rear, a man dreams of chicken thighs.
Unseasoned thighs kept the chef asking, “Why?”


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