intact (Remove filter)
Rouge
at right angles to beauty,
geometry's not my friend,
full reservoirs of make-up
my proportions won't mend
other girls seem so pretty
my torso's a basket case
lobster nose, carrot hair,
mirrors crack at my face
I dream of drastic surgery
features lissom and new
Romeos on my doorstep
aftershaves in a queue
each day flushed torture
in a self-consc...
Saturday 8th May 2021 11:08 am
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Civilities
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Stats (To be continued)
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
1 hour ago
Rolph David on The Anchorage Gambit – Reflexive Control
2 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Stats (To be continued)
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Tikumtok
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
2 hours ago
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
9 hours ago
John Coopey on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
11 hours ago
John F Keane on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
12 hours ago