But Mr. Werbitsky is not why I joined the Poetry Club. I joined the Poetry Club to get girls.
Candy is dandy but if you lick her it's quicker (my apologizes to Ogden Nash) might be true -- and Lord knows I was willing to lick her as long as it took to dick her. But in 11th Grade, I was having considerable trouble getting all the way to the buffet table.
To carnally get to know a B
Have a go at poetry. --Melonosky
That gem appeared in the extravagantly bound publication Perspeculum.
As any school boy knows, perspectum is the Latin nominative neuter singular of perspectus. Perspeculum is a word I invented and snuck on to the cover art. Did I mention that I was once offered an editor job at National Lampoon?
I know what you're thinking, am I ever going to tell you if writing poetry in high school got me laid. Take a look at that photo again. Competition was scarce. There were only three guys in the club. The guy to the right of me was called The Stork. Everybody thought The Stork was brain damaged. And he was. The guy on the left of me was named Christopher DeRosa. Chris was a great poet but the girls never got to know it.
I eventually completed a boxed trifecta, from left to right, long-legged Linda LaGuardia, well-endowed Theresa Claudio, and perky Mary SomethingNotItalian.
If you ever hope to get them home
Write the pretty girls a poem. --Melonosky
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