A Plate of Radishes

i had a laugh at myself when i saw how fat she was!
she had her eye on me like a frog on a butterfly,
and i pulled a wing out of my pocket to fly away.
i didn't know what was in her mind, but her hair
turned on her head with the wind,
and what does she do, but begin towards me with a big
smile and a drink in one hand.
so we drank to my health at the curb and talked about the
salamis she smoothly unhooked from her bra, as she had trained for it many
times before.
her technique is perfected and the meat,
it never fails to taste pretty good, as i later learned.
as i said, i wanted to break free or trip her up just to get her goat,
but she was stubborn and her big secret is that she would smear me
with blood if she didn't get her way, so i don't put up a fight, but ask
her for another drink, which i drain in a gulp.  the only trouble is that
its almost noon and other women are running in circles nearby,
bawling and beating their fists in the air, making a hullabaloo, and
i can't hold my glass for the next toast.  i'm all tensed up when i make
my wild dash for freedom, but the plump lady, who had no right to
lay a hand on me, reached out like i was a plate of radishes, and worked
me over.  it never fails, stem and all were eaten.