You’re as sexy as a fish in an upmarket, glitzy,
fraternizing with the rich and famous,
turning over on a spit;
topped with lovely mash and packed with extra veg –
baby, you’re disgusting.
You’re a bird-eater, that’s what you are.
A Venus’ flower basket sponge.
A screwy kangaroo.
You’re as brutal as a rabbit, in the breeding season
or the first orgasm at dawn.