Alleged: Not in a gold mansion
but a Russian hotel room,
it involved many a pros. miss
and lots of “eau de poon.”
Down the tinkle came a-crashing
on the fluffy, puffy mane.
The tide, color of yarrow;
they all played a peeing game.

Sprinkled beds from golden leakings
of non-nyet trick tarts…gold “wine.”
It is rare to drown, just wallow
in that warm flow that’s divine.
Down the tinkle came a-splashing
on the puffy pompy mane.
The tide, color of yarrow;
they all played a wee-wee game.

Sprinkled head from golden leakings
that hair’s slicked back, and it shines.
It is rare to drown—don’t swallow!
’cause that warm flow’s tinged with brine.
He could buy a hump but loves the
waterfall running down spine,
it’s alleged. Head’s golden weaving
cannot shed that tart urine.
Sprinkled beds they’ll all be leaving
till that head’s unparched next time.