"It is something to know ~ that a penis in tow,
and an arm
are very, very different...
is the measure
of a master creator
a long waving stave of divinity.",
the matriarch said,
baring a strangle hold
on the wrangled mould
as she spoke to the Tiny Hiney Man.
Clearly a 'Ms. Under'... standing heeled and balanced in the cracks
Hiney Man looked on
as mustaches were hard to come by, and not every noble nose could afford one.
"And where there are pussies, there's milk, I assure
the kind that kittens with mittens adore...",
the matriarch finally felt fit to admit
as the crowd failed to roar
and the bulb never lit.
The stubbornness, yes
of sure-footed guests
wittingly lifting and more
Those heels dug in ~
all to the chagrin