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What would Buonarotti say Who worshipped Vittoria And the sparse line of the Sistine Chapel If he could see the bulk of crepe kimono I must model with. Great thighs and sagging breasts, Muscles I can never tighten 'Though I punch and pound and stretch Until some women shriek to stay me, But they always come again In supine endeavor to get thin. Sometimes one imagines I love her! Lord! They make me sick, These women yearning for a new sensation. Do they think that I would touch them If I were not paid to do it. Master, listen! My lovely lady's shrined next door.