Dear Daily Mail
It has come to my recent attention
That my recent appearance at Glastonbury Festival's
Kindly received a mention
I was doing a number of things on that stage up
To and including singing songs (like you do)
But you chose to ignore that and instead
You published a feature review of my boob
Dear Daily Mail
There’s a thing called a search engine
Use it!
If you’d googled my tits in advance you’d have found
That your photos are hardly exclusive
In addition you state that my breast had escaped
From my bra like a thief on the run
You do you know that it wasn’t attempting
To just take in the rare british sun?
Dear Daily Mail
It’s so sad what you tabloids are doing
Your focus on debasing women’s appearances
Ruins our species of humans
But a rag is a rag and far be it from me
To go censoring anyone, oh no
It appears that my entire body
Is currently trying to escape this kimono
Dear Daily Mail
You misogynist pile of twats
I’m tired of these baby bumps
Vadge flashes, muffintops
Where are the newsworthy cocks?
If Iggy or Jagger or Bowie go topless
The news barely causes a ripple
Blah blah blah, feminist
Blah blah blah, gender shit
Blah blah blah
Oh my god nipple
Dear Daily Mail
You will never write about this night
I know that because I’ve addressed you directly
I’ve made myself no fun to fight
But thanks to the internet people
All over the world can enjoy this discourse
And commune with a roomful of people in London
Who aren’t drinking kool-aid like yours
And though there be millions of people
Who’ll accept the cultural bar where you have it at
There are plenty of others who’re perfectly willing
To see breasts in their natural habitat
I keenly anticipate your highly literate
Coverage of upcoming tours
Dear Daily Mail
Up yours
