No matter what our bodies look like, we always---each and everyone of us---would love to change 'something.'
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Butt, butt, butt
wish my gut
were as tight, shapely, firm
could quiver like my butt squirms
Tut, tut, tut
Watch me strut
it cradles me softly
stroke it tenderly
it’s not small
cushions my falls
those who stroll behind me
can’t see through. I’m real! See?

Butt, butt, butt
in my hut
intelligence is prime
it helps us pass our time
tut, tut, tut
some love ruts
I’d rather stir the pot
treasure what’s real—fake rots
those who scorn
shoot their horn
are invited to kiss
something they cannot miss …

just like this!