Lost In Translation

The fat girl bawled at me in Urdu
I’m a nice man, I didn’t want to argue
Apart from that, I’m from Bangladesh
I asked her nicely, don’t get fresh

I could see she was getting overheated
Her belly ripples looking corrugated
Her breasts were heaving like a ship
Her yellow teeth were biting her lip

She’s not the person you’d describe as quaint
She’s not her person you’d want to paint
She’s as ugly as sin, not a saint
You know, I think I’m going to faint

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