Dunciad Of Love-sick Hands
To fetishise her silhouette
Is something I won't do just yet
I'll give it time to grow on me
But first I'll sample some French brie
And then, when but the rind remains
I'll trade it for some working brains
I'll ponder on life's ups and downs
The Kings and Queens, the clones and clowns
"Forget, just once, your window shade!"
She said to me, the heartless jade
I see her dressed, but not in clothes:
In shreds of bacon, which she loathes
And sprigged with parsley--what a pig!
Perhaps she'll dance, for me, a jig...
Perhaps her cavities portend
That my enchantment's at an end...
No longer do I yearn for her
Or from her looks my love infer
Contributors: | Roland, Apsley, F, ambyr, Beefy, Evan. |
Poem finished: | 17th October 2004 by Apsley. |