A poet he is not. Unless of course you’re of the view that rhyme alone is sufficient to constitute poetry. In which case the line “Sold out arenas/you can suck on my penis” from his 2014 hit, ‘Talk Dirty’, may be a contender.

Elsewhere, he struggles with pairing sounds. In seeking to find a suitable companion for “up” in his composition, ‘Kama Sutra’, where his plea is to “tie me up”, he settles rather unambitiously for “woop woop”.

Even that is creatively sophisticated compared to ‘Wiggle’ in which he frequently bellows “Hot damn it/your booty like two planets” before even more frequently hollering the refrain: “Wiggle wiggle wiggle/Wiggle wiggle wiggle/Wiggle wiggle wiggle/Wiggle wiggle wiggle”.

But in the midst of this celebration of humourless vulgarity that sounds like it has been composed while sitting on the toilet, there are lines here and there that are pitch-perfect in capturing some of the modern world’s uncomfortable realities.

In ‘Wiggle’, if you can hold judgement above your head and wade safely through the crude descriptions of leering, groping, grabbing and rough sex, you can find

Derulo blustering: “If I take pictures while you do your dance/I can make you famous on Instagram”.

Sadly, that’s true. And sadly, for some young women, that’s a prize worth wiggling for.

When Derulo and his entourage rolled into town for the Live at the Marquee series of concerts in Cork in the summer of 2014, ‘Wiggle’, ‘Talk Dirty’, and other similar delights made up a setlist which could at times barely be heard above the screams of adoring fans.

They weren’t all female fans — although Derulo, who has an aversion to wearing clothes on his top half (well, it’s hard to find anything to fit those muscles), whose dance moves are both suggestive and athletic, and whose teeth could put on a light show all by themselves, is swoon territory for the teens and 20-somethings.

The girls love him and the guys respect him because the girls love him. He’s got himself a win-win situation which is not bad for a man who writes lyrics like “woop-woop”.

Within the confines of a concert venue, this is relatively harmless. Young ones have been screaming and swooning at their idols for as long as idolatry has existed.

Everyone dresses up, hypes up and acts up. It’s a fantasy show and the performer and audience play equal parts.

But what happens afterwards and on the fringes of such an event reveals the difference between the clever exploitation of the phenomenon of fandom for commercial gain and the cynical abuse of the vulnerabilities of young women for kicks.

Following Derulo’s concert in June 2014, he and his entourage whooped it up a VIP after-party at a Cork nightclub where, the Central Criminal Court heard over the last couple of weeks, girls had vodka poured down their throats and champagne sprayed over their tops during what was described as a “boisterous” gathering.

A young woman at the party was there with the intent to “get loads of pictures with Jason Derulo for posting on social media”, as she told the court. Those were her employer’s instructions, she said, although she was a willing party to the task.

“I was 18 so meeting Jason Derulo was a huge thing. I was mad about him. And to meet someone so famous. My goal was to get a picture with him,” she said in her evidence. She could be famous on Instagram, is what she seemed to be saying.

And then everything went horribly wrong. The entourage had to get on the road and the tour bus was called to come and get them. The driver knew the routine and wasn’t looking forward to it.

“It’s a nightmare,” he told the court. “Individuals who have been drinking after a concert are like bees to honey when they see a tour bus. The bus was literally swamped with girls as soon as I opened the doors.”

Evidence was heard that one of the entourage told some of the girls: “If you’re not on this bus to have sex, then get off.”

Some of them did — maybe because of that warning or maybe because the word went around that the bus was heading for the ferry — but others remained on board, including the then 18-year-old.

She later told gardaí and the court that she was prevented from leaving and was then raped by two men — to be clear, neither was Jason Derulo, and both men who stood trial were acquitted — while around her she saw other young women with their knickers down.

She said she only made her escape when a third man appeared and announced: “I’m next”.

One of the men accused of rape described it rather differently. Doors were open, no one was prevented from leaving, sex was consensual and in full view of anyone who cared to watch, he said.

“It might be graphic but literally I’m sitting here next to another person while I’m doing this to a girl,” he said. That was just the rock and roll lifestyle, he explained.

The driver had a different perspective again — that of a man anxious to get going to meet the ferry schedule and fearful for the safety of the vehicle which was shaking vigorously because of whatever activity was taking place on the upper deck.

When the young woman got off, her friends found her upset, barely coherent and with her clothes on inside out, but with conflicting statements and lack of other evidence, the judge ordered the acquittal of all charges against both defendants.

Whatever happened on that bus, clearly this young woman’s night did not turn out as she had hoped or intended and she has been left distressed in its aftermath. But what did she expect?

Derulo asks precisely that question in ‘Talk Dirty’ when he chronicles the life of a globetrotting star.

“Been around the world, don’t speak their language/But your booty don’t need explaining,” he sings.

“You know the words to my songs/No habla Ingles/Our conversations ain’t long/But you know what is,” he continues.

“International oral sex/Every picture I take, I pose a threat/ Bought a jet, what do you expect?”

The implication is that if you hop on the jet, or in this case, the bus, you should expect that consent is presumed or optional, you should expect no talk and all action, you should expect to wiggle on cue and you should expect to be thrilled with the outcome. Of course, these are just the lyrics of a song performed in a show. It would be unfair to see them as a philosophy for living.

What’s also unfair, however, is that stars like Derulo need their fans to get carried away and to abandon judgement.

Otherwise, they won’t spend their hard-earned money on his concert tickets and downloads or give him the massive social media followings that allow him to act as a walking billboard for big brand advertisers.

Call them fans or call them mugs, that’s part of the unwritten contract between performer and audience.

But when young fans get too carried away, offload too much judgement, board an orgy bus and leave in a state of distress, that’s not part of the deal.

That’s abuse of position and it’s dereliction of responsibility.

Derulo can’t watch every member of his crew and entourage. But he can set the tone and the standards.

He can make it clear that there’s the show and there’s real life and when you deliberately or negligently confuse one with the other for kicks, girls don’t wiggle. They squirm.