Poetry of a Conlanger

Monday, July 25, 2005

Plus a Cell Phone

Dithering from
Lipsticked lips and whitened teeth,
Glancing flirtily from under
Eyelashed caked with mascara,
Showing off a figure
Wrapped tight with low-cut spandex,
You are a stereotype.
You lead the baboons on,
grinning savagely.
You bar the rest of our kindred
From rising at all.
Why do you exist?


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