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On the Sofa, by Edvard Munch
Robert L. Martin

Granny Baby

Granny Baby
 
Grams is kickin’ ass out there
In the red hot universe.
 
She movin’ on up with the speed of sound.
She’s jumpin’ in the clouds up high up there.
 
She’s showin’ her false teeth at the moon.
She’s flashin’ her boobs at the man in there.
 
She’s hikin’ her skirts above her bony knees.
She’s swirlin’ about the petrified penumbra.
 
She’s movin’ on in with her horniness.
She’s lettin’ her hormones go wild.
 
She’s doin’ the cha-cha with her stony hips.
She’s touching her thighs with her liquid fingers.
 
She’s runnin’ around doin’ the siren thing.
She’s steamin’ up all the horny guyses’ glasses.
 
She’s scalin’ up the ladder to king and dukedom.
She’s laughin’ at all the higher echelon guys.
 
She’s reinventin’ the rules of seduction.
She and Aphrodite are the talk of the town.
 
She’s a red hot sorceress, he says, he says.
A sorceress with the sexist tresses
That posses enchantress’s dresses
As she assesses her nexest move
And presses onward to the crestses.
 
 
 
Granny Baby’s a red hot number,
A grandma swingin’ out in the wilds.
She’s alright, alright, alright.

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