My aunts
My aunts the Goddesses, gigantic pumpkins thus descended, well scrubbed, from the Olympus into Troy's mahogany drawing rooms Under slapstick hats they demolished cream cake after cream cake
In summer they resided uninterrupted on picnic plaids chequered red & white The chocolate éclairs of black trousered bottoms bruised buttercup & daisy. The harpsichord of skylarks was soon drowned out. Each produced a voice of solid Limburg oak or smacked their lips!
Well, there I sat. In every corner a cow-eyed goddess ('Who wants the apple?) skirts pulled up, thighs improperly bared
Ah well, decayed are all those downy pouting lips all those proud pounds of peach flesh Withered are the red cheeks of that juicy dispute
About: Liqueur-pink gossip Iliad & Odyssey!
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Manuel Kneepkens [1942] |
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