The store mannequin
Was rejected,
Her stats didn't comply
For a window show
To show its wares
To a town of passersby.
Her Do wasn't quite couture,
Her nipples were just such,
The arms that loped
Across her chest
Looked a little butch.
Her belly with its ripples,
Was all a bit too much;
Her booty profile it was thought
Was maybe just a touch...
Her hips which had male appeal,
Were thought a tad too light.
Her legs rose up like lamp posts,
Her feet a a smidgeon tight.
Hanging, covering all her faults,
A dress not draping right.
The window dresser
Stamped UNSUITABLE
Across her harlequin face,
And packed her with
RETURN TO SENDER
In the original crate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem