I heard the knews the other day -
In the Biblical sense of course –
About the natural enemy
Of the heterosexual girl's,
Of course, finding a guy to be
In the gay way. This predicates,
Apart from her minority
Status, that the family way's
The way she'd want to be, as if,
Naturally, there'd be some sort
Of shortage of sperm, as if gift
Could not be made of vibrator
And plastic syringe, the douche past
Its use-by date now that, at last,
She's come to her senses and wants
To stop the biological
Clock ticking, masculine clicking
Better than a warm wind in her
Where once dreams of Paris wound in
Her hair and the age of thirty
Seven fast approaching L'Arc de
Triomphe as Romance fades to the
Try oomph and pop out a maggot,
Which there is no way a faggot
Could make providence of: forget
They not their worst enemy should be
Kept closer than their best friend is,
That when it comes to the business
Of crossing the Rubicon, not
The Rubiyat at the pub on
A Sat'day night, like a bubble
Of delight become but delight
With a bubble soon to become
A trouble bubble bouncing on
Its own, no, in that zone where some
Strategic foresight is called for
Lest whore simply become a whore
With more trouble than its worth, her
Worst enemy is more like her
Best friend if he be gay, taking
Away the very men she would
Otherwise not want to fight him
For, leaving her fellow
Whores on the heterosexual
Dance floor to duke it out where once
They wore their dew kit out, now, quelle
'Orreur, heterosexual hell,
Best friend becomes worse enemy
Than one you'd never want to see
Beside you of a morn sleeping, he
Keeping you warm of a night, no
True delight in his bosom, though
He falsely warm the cockles o'
Your heterosexual heart, love
Quite apart from all this bally
Hoo consideration, and they,
Therefore, who truly be the girl's
Worst enemy are girls, so that
Now the knews should say, in the good
Old Biblical way, as also
The Buddhist, your won worst enemy
Is your best friend and you, turning
The other cheek, may rest easy,
Confident you are sleeping with
Them every night that you live.
In the Biblical sense of course –
About the natural enemy
Of the heterosexual girl's,
Of course, finding a guy to be
In the gay way. This predicates,
Apart from her minority
Status, that the family way's
The way she'd want to be, as if,
Naturally, there'd be some sort
Of shortage of sperm, as if gift
Could not be made of vibrator
And plastic syringe, the douche past
Its use-by date now that, at last,
She's come to her senses and wants
To stop the biological
Clock ticking, masculine clicking
Better than a warm wind in her
Where once dreams of Paris wound in
Her hair and the age of thirty
Seven fast approaching L'Arc de
Triomphe as Romance fades to the
Try oomph and pop out a maggot,
Which there is no way a faggot
Could make providence of: forget
They not their worst enemy should be
Kept closer than their best friend is,
That when it comes to the business
Of crossing the Rubicon, not
The Rubiyat at the pub on
A Sat'day night, like a bubble
Of delight become but delight
With a bubble soon to become
A trouble bubble bouncing on
Its own, no, in that zone where some
Strategic foresight is called for
Lest whore simply become a whore
With more trouble than its worth, her
Worst enemy is more like her
Best friend if he be gay, taking
Away the very men she would
Otherwise not want to fight him
For, leaving her fellow
Whores on the heterosexual
Dance floor to duke it out where once
They wore their dew kit out, now, quelle
'Orreur, heterosexual hell,
Best friend becomes worse enemy
Than one you'd never want to see
Beside you of a morn sleeping, he
Keeping you warm of a night, no
True delight in his bosom, though
He falsely warm the cockles o'
Your heterosexual heart, love
Quite apart from all this bally
Hoo consideration, and they,
Therefore, who truly be the girl's
Worst enemy are girls, so that
Now the knews should say, in the good
Old Biblical way, as also
The Buddhist, your won worst enemy
Is your best friend and you, turning
The other cheek, may rest easy,
Confident you are sleeping with
Them every night that you live.
Author notes
1: "The Rubiyat of Omar Khaiyam.", famously a poetic text of love of wine, women and wonder among those of Islam.
2: Buddhist Maxim: "You are your own worst enemy".
3: Buddhist Maxim: "It's all in your mind".
4: At the very least the cover art of The Bad Seeds
"Your Funeral, My Trial", and therefore Victoriana
in general.
