Sunday, March 13, 2005
Charlie's Angles Hair
The birthday girl had her breasts taped
into a brand new sky-blue backless number.
Everyone just wanted to be near her.
Two film-set fans blew across the dance floor:
a writhing wind tunnel of Charlie’s Angles hair.
I saw a guy I used to know, semi-Biblically,
(Psalms? Sticky palms. We were on our knees anyway).
The girls got good and sweaty, and stuck together.
The guys circled, watched, and got (almost) nothing.
And at the end of the night the birthday girl said:
Really, I couldn’t have asked for more.
. . . . .
into a brand new sky-blue backless number.
Everyone just wanted to be near her.
Two film-set fans blew across the dance floor:
a writhing wind tunnel of Charlie’s Angles hair.
I saw a guy I used to know, semi-Biblically,
(Psalms? Sticky palms. We were on our knees anyway).
The girls got good and sweaty, and stuck together.
The guys circled, watched, and got (almost) nothing.
And at the end of the night the birthday girl said:
Really, I couldn’t have asked for more.
. . . . .
