Gently stir and flame the fire,
Lay the lady down to roast,
Dress her quickly, I desire,
In the dripping put a toast,
That my hunger may remove --
woman is the meat I love.
On the dresser see her lie;
Skin so charming, lips so red;
Finer meat ne'er met the eye,
On the sweetest fruit she fed:
Let the spit go swiftly round,
Let me have her nice and brown'd.
On the table spread her legs,
Let the knives be sharp and clean,
Pickles, salad and some eggs,
Let her thighs be fresh and lean.
With small beer, good ale and wine,
Oh ye gods! how I shall dine.

(with apologies to) Jonathan Swift + GUEST

fred