Just Entre My Parlour… - Poem by Mark Heathcote
Men’s patient sighs, never wane consider
When faced with his trips to the clothing boutique.
What gravitations are these ruby slippers?
A man would rather click his heels together
… Is his heart meant to faint at chiffon mystique?
Tanned leather ladies, be reasonable I’m not a sheikh
Looks… your foot isn’t a boa constrictor.
My wealth’s more manageable, what do you seek
Yes, I’ve rubies, patients, just take a peek—
… There’s room in my heart, just enter my parlour.
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