The Riddle of the Sphynx
I met a voluptuous sphinx
Who posed a sly riddle, the minx;
She loosened her bodice
Then posed like a goddess
And asked what a gentleman thinks.
"One thinks," I began, "thou art pretty,
And thy boobs not at all itty-bitty,
But, be they so pert,
Keep 'em, please, in thy shirt,
For I'm bound by a husband's chass-titty."
She fluttered her tail in respect,
And she clawed a few fleas from her neck.
Then she knocked off her jive
And she ate me alive--
For my answer was wrong, I suspect.