A Poetic (X-Rated) Encounter with Ann Coulter
O’Hare - a snowy winter night,
The weather had delayed my flight
“At least an hour, no more than two.”
I thought a drink (or two) would do
To pass the hour(s) I had to wait.
I found a bar quite near the gate.
A single seat left at the bar
Beside a blond, posed like a star
Waiting for the “Action” shout
To let her inner beauty out.
I sat. Her square jaw swiveled round,
Serpentine, without a sound.
I knew her when she tried to smile–
Thin lizard lips with flecks of bile-
More like a grimace than a grin,
“Shall we let the games begin?”
Tall she was, and long and lank.
Her scent I’ll just describe as rank-
Fire and brimstone, sulfur (hot),
Mixed with tuna left to rot.
“I just came in to have a drink”
I said, while gagging on the stink.
“Damn! Another liberal fag,
You people make me want to gag!”
“I know the feeling well,” I said,
“Is something near here freshly dead?”
“No queers,” she answered, “No such luck.
But I’m looking for someone to fuck.
I have a dildo up my bum,
But it no longer makes me cum.
I keep it up there, side by side,
With a broomstick that I used to ride.”
“Oh, Gawd, not ME! I’d sooner die
Than plunge into that big brown eye!
As much as I hate getting bossed
I’m far more scared of getting lost
In the vastness of that yawning space.
I think I’ll find another place
To spend the time before my flight.”
“Bitch!” she hissed, “My fudgehole’s tight!
Too tight! Cause what was heading South
Has started coming out my mouth.”
I gagged at that point, then I sobbed
As her Adam’s Apple bobbed,
Threatening up a poopy shower
Like she sprayed at poor Matt Lauer.
Shriveling, sniveling, then I fled
Fearing they might find me dead
If I stayed one minute more.
“Run! You little faggot whore,”
Her voice like chalkboard scratches shrieked,
Mindless of the terror wreaked
On a crowd that then stampeded-
Toward doors and windows unimpeded,
Frightened, panicked, driven daft.
Annie just sat there and laughed.
“They’re paying for their liberal sins”
Ann sneered, and headed for the Men’s.