Dr Fittonstein Builds a Lover

Let’s start with the eyes
Sofia Boutella’s Algerian eyes
As dark and deep as desert wells.
And let’s shelter them under
Veronica Lake’s arching brows.
The nose, arrow-straight and citrus sharp
Will come from Ryan Gosling
Centred above Susan George’s pale-edged lips
And adorable, leaning back teeth.
Christina Ricci’s open forehead at the top
Henry Cavill’s unbreakable jawline supporting below.
Between them Emma Stone’s pierced nautilus ears
And crowning them all, the hair,
Bernadette Peterson’s burning curls

But what of the body?  What of the neck?
The neck should be Indira Varma’s graceful column
At the top of Jane Birkin’s silver birch frame
Carried on the strong, square shoulders
Of Florence Pugh’s broad back.
The arms should be Chris Hemsworth’s pristine muscle
Ending in Madhur Jaffrey’s intelligent hands
Although moved as expressively as Jeff Godlblum’s.
Pam Grier’s magnificent breasts should take their rest
Above Timothy Chalamet’s slender mid-riff
And London Andrews’ pumpkin hips.
Jake Gyllenhall’s chiselled backside behind
Barry Keoghan’s dancing penis in front
And the whole assemblage striding on
Angela Ripon’s proud legs
And Taylor Swift’s polished feet.

But what of the person?  The voice, perhaps
It should be . . .

The speaking voice of Cate Blanchett
The singing voice of Janis Joplin
The accent of Richard Burton’s finest monologues
And more . . .

The intellect of Grace Blakeley
The humour of Billy Connoly
The mathematical ability of Carol Vorderman
The imagination of Terry Pratchett
The musicianship of Mylene Klass
The charisma of Zack Polanski
The wisdom of Ian McKellen
The all-encompassing embrace of Miriam Margolyes
The sex-drive of Mae West

And when all this work is finished
I shall step back
To survey my creation
My amalgam of perfections,
And only then will I realise
That I have made myself a monster.

 

January 2026

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