An utter Gorgon, Saturday night.
Unattractive, unsightly, a fright.
Ten snakes counteract every belly shake.
They rattle as I dance.
Bitter snakes eschew romance.
Loath to bite, though they loathe the sight
of the pitiful suitors' prance.
copyright M. E., April 13 2009, all rights reserved
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Amusing cultural observations of a traveling artist (including some on 'death'). Film, photography, and French are to be expected.
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