Only Ingrid Soothes This Eyeball
Your cobwebs (your cosmetics)
Your habitat (your aesthetics)
Everything about you is alarming
My impression (my illusion)
My homage (my confusion)
Seldom was deception so disarming
There never was a moment when I felt so well at ease
Nor yet a day when I'd not seek another set of keys
And so to you, my Tulip, I ask you if you'll please...
Open my deposit with your desperate remedies
I'm looking for the time when I can say that I've a wart
or a toad or a swan or a coupla quarts,
Or a pair of shorts
That aborts
Contributors: | Roland, Stacy, TG, Kimberley, P, The Agent Apsley. |
Poem finished: | 17th March 1998. |