[Douglas G. Brown]

(which begins "What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,")

What slips my hips have split, and where, and why,
I can’t recall, and also what I ate
That raised my poundage to its present weight;
I read the scale, and then exhale a sigh.
From Frigidaire, I grab a turkey thigh;
My hunger pangs, I simply must abate.
I’ll start to diet on some future date;
This smells so good, I’ll give it just a try.

In bleak midwinter, I’m a big old broad
Three times divorced, and living all alone.
I recollect my sultry days of yore
And gnaw the thigh down to its very bone;
Back then, I turned the fellers’ heads, by God,
Then raid the fridge for just a little more.