All’s Quiet in the House of Lust All’s quiet in the House of Lust;
the Kama Sutra’s gathering dust,
and, on a rack of lingerie,
a spider’s made his bed today.
A pack of Trojans snaps in two,
acquires a nasty residue,
like ear-wax in a hairy ear–
this hasn’t been Lust’s year.
But, ah! The spectacle of sex!
Those pervy thoughts which always vex
a teenage brain will vex old men,
until they come again
unto the place of lacy thongs,
bi-curious whores and Sultan’s songs;
where a slightly glistening thigh
might change one’s destiny
into a kinky bubbling parlor
of pea-brained monkeys making squalor:
not evil, but a little wrong
is how the thing is hung.
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