Period Swimming On Saturday Night

I've travelled the world and seen many a sight;
Known things that would make a lion take fright.
But nothing has left me so shaken and white
As period swimming on Saturday night.

You might think at first I would be filled with glee.
There were no swim suits in the twelfth century.
The prospects sound good for lots of nudity.
But the swimmers are not the ones you'd want to see.

I'd heard sounds of partying over that way,
So I thought I would go there and join in the play.
But the bodies that I observed there on display
Drove from me any desire to stay.

Such an expanse of flesh I never have seen:
Jello-like masses of meat most obscene,
With unrecognizable pink bits between,
The sight of which turned my stomach quite green.

I do not object to beholding the nude.
I have a live and let live attitude.
But being subjected to such sights is rude,
Depressing and aesthetically crude.

Though we try to practice our medieval ways,
Happy am I if this in the past stays.
For given a choice I would avert my gaze
From period swimming for all of my days.