October 25, 2011 § 2 Comments
She was a dance-floor juggernaut.
Her matronly bearing attracted the eye of Monsieur DePuy,
Who recklessly hoped that the embonpointly vixen
Would deign to make eye contact with a mere ventriloquist.
Perhaps, with the help of the pastry chef, he could orchestrate
A dignified collision beneath the crystal chandeliers
Which would throw them together. She would single him out.
To break the ice, he could offer to memorize her matrilineal line,
Mimic a sputtering accordion, or diagram her favorite sentence.