To A Playboy (a special holiday traffic greeting)
Though you shopped around quite early And picked an expensive prize, When the Christmas rush is over Don't return the merchandise.
To the Censors
Miss Jones, were I a boorish chap You'd take dictation on my lap, Or do a frightened arabesque As I pursued you round the desk. But I can think of nothing crueler Than pinching at the water cooler; And bosses rate one's indignation Who tire young girls with late "dictation." I think of just your health instead And often to myself have said, "That nice Miss Jones belongs in bed!"
To a Puzzled Pen Pal
(from a puzzled pen pal)
May the New Year models that flow through your pad Feature chassis both softer and plumper. May they go on all cylinders, and I might add: May the traffic be bumper to bumper.
We toast your grand heroics in the face of smutty dastards, A merry, merry Christmas to all you nutty
To my Secretary
Playboy's Christmas Cards missives and missiles for the jolly season verse by Judith Wax and Larry Siegel
If you get my card first, and then I get yours (A red one, a green one, or blue one), How will I know if you're thinking of me, Or you sent it because I sent you one? But if yours arrives first, and then you get mine (A beaut, if I ever did see one), Can you tell if it's true that I'm thinking of you? Or was mine sent because you sent me one?
