Guest Blogger: Den Rele

Breast is Best

I remember a time when a handful was plenty
and all that you needed was a perky pair
but these are the days of the mammoth mammary
of humoungous hooters and big bags of air
of gigantic goombas, GGs and Jordan
and yayas stretched far as a yaya would dare

And I long for a time when a handful was plenty
and all you needed was a perky pair
A time before plastic and silicone implants
a time before big baps became a career

when a boob was a boob and it didn't much matter
whether yours were beestings or bosoms or boulders
as long as you had a nice pair of jubblies
happily jiggling down from your shoulders
before gigantic goombas, GGs and Jordan
and yayas stretched far as a yaya would dare

If only, If only, we'd all band together
us women with chesticles varied and rare
and tell all the lad mags to stuff their bajongas
and take to the streets, fine tittied and fair

With our bristols and bombs, our norks and our jugs
badoinkies, bazoombas, bethas and dugs
highbeams and hummers, honkers and hooters
melons and numnums, knockers, bazookas
our ying yangs, our yazoos, our racks and our wah wahs
babaloos, cha chas, torpedoes and tatas

We'd all spread the word, and start conversations
about all those excuses for self mutilation
like "My body needed more symmetry"
or "my bigger boobs make me feel more womanly"

We'd kick Wonderbra in the "hello boys"
fling out the chicken fillet - oh, joy of joys!
We'd demand bras that fit, not that we fit the bras
and tell all those stupid car show wankers
that our mounds were not made for selling their cars

And we'd take a look at our endless variety
and accept at last that all boobs should hang free
Because every woman in her heart knows this best:
That a breast, is a breast, is a breast, is a breast.