Sunday, August 06, 2006


I think I wrote this back in the early 70's (the fun of cleaning old files), but I am not sure if I didn't get it from someone. So if anyone can give me a clue ....

(to the tune of Home on the Range)

Oh, give me a clone,
Of my flesh and my bone,
With it's Y chromosome changed to X;
And when it is grown
Then my own little clone
Will be of the opposite sex.

Clone, clone of my own
With it's Y chromosome changed to X;
And when I'm alone
With my own little clone
We will both think of nothing but sex.

Oh, give me a clone
Hear my sorrowful moan
Just a clone that is wholly my own.
And if it's an X
Of the opposite sex
Oh what fun we will have when we're prone.

My heart's not of stone
As I've frequently shown
When alone with my dear little X.
And after we've dined
I am sure we will find
Better incest than Oedipus Rex.

Why should such sex vex
Or disturb, or purplex
Or induce a disparaging tone?
After all, don't you see
Since we're both of us - me
When were making love I'm alone.

And after I'm done
She will still have her fun
For I'll clone myself twice 'ere I die.
And this time without fail
They'll be both of them male
And they'll each ravish her by-and-by.


Blogger Jack said...

A little dittty that would make JAMES DICKEY smile and CHARLES BUKOWSKI laugh out loud.

I am ever so happy when I can cite Dickey and Bukowski in the same sentence. Ooh, la, la.

7:11 AM, August 06, 2006  

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