A somewhat questionable recommendation for adult personal services.
I woke up this morning with this bit of poetry regurgitating
from my subconscious. Now, I don't remember what I ate last
night, but I'll freely admit something is working on me. And I
haven't had a drop to drink for at least a couple of months!
So, folks, just accept the fact that my prostate cancer therapy
is over--apparently with good results--and enjoy my moment of
just "Letting go."
My Irish Whore in Singapore
O, there's many a stop
When I go ta sea
Some grab my gold
N' some are free
But the very best
Who opens her door
Is my Irish whore
In Singapore
She was barely twelve
When she took ta the street
With a thin bedroll
N' nary a sheet
She's got no references
But n' earned reputation
For certain delights
In any station
If ya drop a coin'
N' promise not ta tary
She offers BJ, Hand
N' Missionary
So when ya're droppin' anchor
N' lookin' for more
Try visitin' my Irish whore
In Singapore!
Richard Lee Orey
Copyright 2010
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Reviews of "My Irish Whore in Singapore"
Reviewed by Maria Cristina Falcon (Reader)
Reviewed on August 5, 2012
Naughty, naughty, Richard. I detect another side of you. This is a far cry from your usual melancholy poems.
Reviewed by Rafika Anderson (Reader)
Reviewed on December 7, 2010
LOL! What an entertaining romp! Great fun, Richard.
Outrageous! Gives new meaning to our breakfast conversation on your patio with our Bold French Roast, Richard. I miss our morning chats over coffee where the hummingbirds hover around your roses. The fifth stanza is the money line blowin' a wad! Be well.
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Love Always,
Sage
Regis