A great poem by Suzy’s big sis…enjoy
Too much FCUKING is bad for you
(or how a backwards insult became a fashion cult)
FCUK FCUK
It’s that trademarked expletive that just won’t go away
It’s a shit slogan, an embarrassing tag
And not a clever way of saying that you’re up for a shag
Britain’s flirting with this brand
should have been a one night stand
but it’s an ad campaign that’s boomeranged.
and it just keeps coming back like herpes
for those 18-30s
who can’t get enough of this anagram
So may be once it was daring
To have badly spelt swearing
Emblazoned across your chest
But lads, looking like a sex pest
Is far from the best
Way
To communicate with a potential date
So when you start to flirt in a t-shirt
That says
‘Am I your fantasy FCUK?’
you’ll understand why the smart women just look at you and turn away.
Because what good’s an illiterate suitor
Who can’t spell fuck, never mind Kama Sutra.
And ladies, it’s not a radical feminist twist
To write ‘guaranteed FCUK’ across your tits
You look like a commercialised whore
Who got FCUKED up at her local store
And tell me does it really help to advertise
The desperation between your thighs
And having strangers trying to analyse
Whether you always FCUK IN HEELS
And if you do how it feels.
But something that’s never been explained
And something I’d like to entertain
is how do you actually FCUK?
Can you do it the normal way?
Because I bet you there are rules and instructions
That go with the FCUK art of seduction
So I want you to fast forward a future collection
Where French Connection
Don’t just exploit the sexual frustration of the nation
But have trademarked, copyrighted and branded procreation.
It’s the latest addition to their product profile
And it’s taken a while
But SEX by FCUK
Is the brand new Best way to screw
All the cool kids are doing it
So why aren’t you?
And the ideal location for this latest FCUKING fad
Is some trendy urban pad
That’s been interior designed
So that your orgasms are timed
To the rhythm of funky chill out trax
That get you to relax
Into FCUKING
on the set the stylist created
Where your every thrust will be regulated
Because this clothing chain
Wants you to come again and again and again
into its branches
And embrace its FCUKING advances.
FCUK FCUK
It’s that trademarked expletive that just won’t go away
It’s a shit slogan, an embarrassing tag
And not a clever way of saying you’re up for a shag
But this smut sells
And F C U K spells
The Fucking Collapse of the UK’s
Ability to tell
When a jokes expired
Because FCUK is capitalisms child
Left to run wild
With dyslexia and Tourettes
Who gets
Satisfaction
from every transaction.
by CLAIR WHITEFIELD