Cotton had no Dough
©2012, Olan L. Smith
In college, Cotton and his gal
Did it where they could
While in his car, in a bar,
In a fountain or on a mountain.
They made love in the bushes
In a temple [not quite so simple], in a lurch, or in a church
They made love in a courtyard or in the graveyard—
She'd be downward bent when they did it in a tent.
Shagging on a bench during the ninth inning was a cinch;
They did it in a restaurant, the waiter was not remiss
When he asked, "What are you looking for, Young Miss?"
He felt a nibble when they did it on River Beach; thank God it was not a leech.
They did it behind the prayer room door on the library's second floor
And when finished, she'd proudly march out the door.
At a museum, she'd giggle walking around an exhibit's lance pushing down her pants
That's how they did it with no dough not so very long ago.
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Older Poems from the Pen of Olan L. Smith
PoetryThis collection is a gathering of most of my older poems, both published and unpublished, making it easier to find my poetry.
