The Judgement Of Paris Poem by Mary Champion
The Judgement Of Paris
Buxom, bouncy-buttocked beauties,
Rubens thought that you were cuties.
Cellulite was sexy curves,
skin and bone was just for pervs.
Paris was hard pushed to choose
which of you he'd like to schmooze;
which of you would let him score?
The most obliging paramour.
Now, you'd all be classed obese,
condemned for ev'ry coil and crease.
Those were the days, I sadly sigh,
when no one had a BMI.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 10:28:57 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
