The foul mouthed obscenities that issue from his lips
send shivers down the spine and a convulsion to the hips
Like clockwork from his lips another execration drips
just when you think he’s finished, yet another oath he’ll trip
I don’t think I have ever heard such oaths in all my days
and he has to slip the F word into everything he says
Shocking are the contents of his base vocabulary
and all the other words he says imply vulgarity
He seems to take delight in mouthing his profanity
His maledictions by the score show such inanity
Protest until you’re breathless, it ain’t going to go away
‘cos he’ll always slip the F word into everything he says
He seems to have expletives for every situation
and if swearing was a sport he’d be the champ of imprecation
The invective that’s injected into every conversation
is enough to make the bluest comic blush in consternation
Everybody’s tried, but he will never change his ways
he can’t help but slip the F word into everything he says
His cussing and his cursing and his dirty dysphemism
infuse his filthy wordage and perpetuate a schism
between his sensibility and abject vulgarism
his effing and his blinding are a spicy euphemism
Call it colourful language, call it anything you may
he’s going to drop the F bomb into everything he says
Steve Wheeler © 30 January, 2021
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