portrait of a gamesome wench

oh to be not a voice
yammering at the screech
but somewhere in a feather bed
receiving of a leech

and then and then a sterling toy
up my arse
leisurely from pleasant boy
or housemaid

then would I be the fly
a-cleansing of my name
and sucktubes every afternoon
upon my game

and none should ever see
as far as that to this
my wayward plump-lipped B-U-T
my hipless silent hiss