She’s shallow; sweet Sue, seductress, sells
seashells by six seaside states.
She snips and sounds like lambs stabbed by shears.
Soap-soaks, slaughters shads, snags snakes.

Sighs at zounds* of Jesus Christ’s
wracks of soreness from saintly scrapes.
Sometimes Sue sacks pilots,
swiftly shags—unseemly sates.

She secretes shoes,
knows the best spy games.
Shuns such puzzlements
as suppressing aimless shame.

She shucks mollusks in seaside burgs;
says she saws when unsharp knives shall not shave.
Swills at bars, swigs Singapore Slings.
Raps aphasia-free-sustains.

She shows the ranks
selfish genitals cranks.
It’s a mitts-seize craze…
sexy, saucy pranks.

She secretes soups,
totes the best sliced games.
Shuns such puzzlements
as blameful sous-chefing shame.

She shocks the shes
at swing-singles sprees.
Socks show many shades…
on stilettos raised.

She shouts out touts,
surly-shrills threnodies.
Soprano stalls;
tenor’s seized with ease.

 
“Hiss, bliss, miss,” syllables she yells;
she’s no sham expressing prates.
Sassy, snugs sacks of smooched suitors.
Above eaves: sheaves of such slippery slates.

She secretes suits,
knows the best tie games.
Snubs such puzzlements
as seam-severed serge-suit stains.

Sucks up the sec sops; such secs: sips triples;
sans Sanc[erre], Zin-swigger spates.
In sheds, some shales,
slick tools smug roofers use
on houses sadly seeking repaints.

Slow Sue sis tweets me
so discourteously.
Shouts some sibilance in disgrace.
She sounds like some sexy solipsist
selling selfies…center’s face!

She keys-seeks Stu’s—
sows, suggests Skype names.
Shuns such sentiments
as silly sobriquet games.

Pssssssssst!!


*late 16th century: contraction from (God)'s wounds (i.e. those of Christ on the Cross).