Qualified approval

“You’re not gay?” she asked. “Not one of those?
Not a bit? Good. One just never knows!
Very well,” she said, mollified,
“Since you seem qualified,
On with the fuck, I suppose!”

Mother knows best

Keep your legs crossed, her mother had warned.
By the time, though, her meaning had dawned,
She’d been spread like a starfish,
Her cunt smelled like garfish!
God knows what the devil had spawned!