Let’s hear it for the ornaments
adored so well by all the gents;
they’re soft and smooth and spherical
and oft get poets lyrical;
they’ve been around since time began —
why, Adam was their biggest fan;
there’s rather nothing more unique,
ergo chaps can’t resist a peek;
although they are ubiquitous,
they’re rarely found superfluous;
concentric circles that protrude,
when dishabille they might seem lewd;
oft covered, but in such a way
that makes dudes look at them all day;
indeed, these shapes are magical
to render men insensible;
and, variation infinite! —
thus blokes are ‘indiscriminate’;
some say that bigger is the best
but such thought’s now construed regressed;
petite can charm as well because
guys focus on areolas;
it’s definition and contrast
which holds attention so steadfast;
forsooth, the symmetry, as such,
is what makes them appeal so much;
plus, don’t discount the mystery
of symbols of fertility;
it’s true that gents are silly wags
to fall in love with what are bags;
or boobs or jugs or what-have-you,
these words are frivolous, it’s true;
it’s funny how there’s ridicule
placed on these forms that make lads drool;
perhaps it’s insecurity
that dames can get dudes so silly;
for, who’s the bubbie, I ask you,
to be dumb over fat tissue?
Let’s hear it for the ornaments
that make wise men lose common sense.
Text, narration & production © 2017-2021 C. Kurtz.
Music: John Dowland, “Lady Laiton’s Almain.”
Originally published by Danse Macabre January 2019.