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Click hereToday my lover called me Mum!
It’s not the timing that offends:
For instance, if about to cum
Or in the company of friends
It would be worse; but nonetheless
It raises quite alarming fears –
Must I assist this man to dress,
Or brush his hair and wash his ears?
He often treats me as his maid
And, equally, his whore in bed,
His nurse, his cook, whatever trade
Best keeps him clothed, content and fed.
But Mother?! Picture what a fuss
He’d make if, as I spread my knees,
I gazed at my nude Oedipus
And whispered: ‘Daddy, fuck me, please.’