[Marc-Andre Germain]

I confess I don’t know what to write
And admit that this verse is a blight;
I am killing some time
And you’re wasting your time:
It’s unlikely to bring you delight.


Another limerick:

The devil appeared as I breathed my last
and his cast by his side had a blast:
“You’re a sinner, you’ll burn
And this gutter attorn;
There’s no end to the heat we forcast.”

(I've also got some highly execrable "anaphrodisiac" material, I'm not sure I should post them (rated R).