Lithe and limber
Kindles my timber
Young bods in a pod
Me seeming an old sod
I've rubles to spare
To view them all bare
To diddle their middles
Fore and aft
For I'm not daft
But full of craft
Ready to serve
Their every curve
Ribs and rump
Every bump
Holes in between
Crave to be seen
Used and abused
Awarded and lauded
I can steer a career
'thout a single beer
My magic stingy finger
will insert a whingy-dinger
My new boy-bambone
Beats your odd cellphone
At surging a backbone
To resolute posture
O'er a pliant fissure
Longing for love
Sweet as a dove
Select one for me
I'll have him to tea
And then we'll see
Whether he gets me,
My rubles, dollars, euros and yen
And pulsating inches of ten
