Roses are red
Violets are blue
Mum’s in the bogs
Covered in dog poo
After Mum's weekly Soiree du bukakke
The bogs floor resembles a freshly iced wedding cake
As the US sits on the edge of tipping into fascism
It’s good to know that mum will always be in the bogs, covered in jism
Dad’s fantasising
About willy ‘super-sizing’
Who's the best gents-fuck? Your mum, pound for pound,
Your dad? He's been done for loitering in playgrounds.
No man has ever been sent to the ice box
For crimes against mum's grotesque cyclops.
Dad's attempting to convey how smooth genitalia "gleams,"
During a chat with other nonces on Microsoft Teams.
Dad’s lurking by the bins behind Lidl
Hoping to catch a stray lost child kid-fiddle
There's nothing there, just a single, really thick pubic hair. Forgive me if I stare.
Mum’s hard at work at the ‘poleing station’
Egging on blokes to ever more vigorous acts of anal ablation
