Triple Sonnet for Studmuffins Wrapped in Bacon

I’d like to order a lover wrapped in bacon
from your secret menu, because I’m a really
hungry Chinese girl at this drive-in —
give me all meat, all man, 100% Grade A
all-natural cut with a side of sensitive,
and don’t forget the condiments in the bag,
and isn’t this ideal? Having your cake
and eating it too, or having your beefcake
and eating him too, or having your studmuffin
feed you strawberry cake in the bubble bath
like you’re both rich and happy with unlimited
wardrobes and private jets, and I want to feel
like women with enviable thighs, in erotica
winding up their men: she winds, he drools,
she winds, he drools — her boy toy or man toy,
and I want to lean in for a kiss after telling
my lover about wrapping him in bacon,
because bacon tastes good on everything
from deviled eggs to mac and cheese,
and Heart Attack Burgers on secret menus:
three greasy patties and bacon bacon bacon,
a little melted cheese, and once I watched
an interview with a starlet who said how
melted cheese was her favorite food,
and no more beautiful words have ever
been spoken, and let food be your fantasy:
how children believe that the moon is made
of cheese or how adults want to live in houses
made of gouda, and in Hong Kong, my cousin
Janet recommends cheese hot pot with chicken,
and no, that’s not the same thing as fondue
also known as the 2000s version of romantic:
dip your date in cheese, or take me back
to the drive-in, and let me order some #1s
of hunks of men on bread dipped in cheese
and some #4s of man sandwiches: cut
and chiseled to perfection with tomatoes
and special sauce, or what about some #5s
on the breakfast menu: studmuffins both sweet
and full of whole grains and buff buff buff,
and why is it that I start giggling when my love
and I start talking about food — pass the sauce,
please, I’m ready to eat you up, order you again.