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Saturday, April 7, 2012

Not the Easter Bunny

From the belly button up
She was all Penthouse Forum

Tight abs
Full and perky breasts
A perfect sexual transition
From collarbone to neck
A face Miss America would kill for
Flowing hair down her back

It was the rest that was distressing

Instead of arms
She had wings
Great black wings
Big enough to pound a man to death
If he were foolish enough
To make an attempt at the upper human beauty

Waist down she was a bird
Not a great looking bird either
Kind of a dirty vulture looking underbody
With poisonous looking claws

In one claw
Was a basket
A dainty pink basket

In that basket were eggs
Painted pretty eggs

She would hover at random intervals
Looking all around
Then swoop low to the ground
Her free clawed foot
Would reach into the basket
Pulling forth an egg
Held daintily in her talons

To be deposited carefully
Oh so gently
In a hidden spot

Then she was off
To do it again
Never quite finishing
Never quite running out of gaily colored eggs
Never quite convincing me
That my eyes were not deceiving me

But what else can I guess at?
She's got the basket
A never ending supply of Easter Eggs
And she is hiding them carefully

Friends
Meet the Easter Harpy

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