by Samantha Kuperberg, BC'10
Adorable horrible tube dress of mine
Oh wicked, fiendish foe
I do confess
I loved you once—yes,
But alas I love you no mo’
Your fabric it does cling to me
Like a really clingy guy
Who calls every day
With nothing to say,
Like “Sometimes I wish I could fly!”
Another distress of you dress I confess:
You require a strapless bra
Which rubs my skin
Till’ it’s dry as gin
So I go braless—p’sha!!
That you’ve gone down like an alto or a plane
Should come as no surprise
You’ve moved from my nips
Way down to my hips
Cause I’m quite well endowed—boob-wise.
Yes, my bountiful bosom defies gravity
As up and down it does heave
Wish to blow my nose
(I’m allergic to clothes)
But alas. I can’t. No sleeve.
A cincher belt goes round my waist
I pull it tight and hard
Which brings all the boys to the yard
Feel a blustery wind that blusters and blows
For your purchase it will make me pay
As it will expose
More than simply my toes
Like my panties with a heading: Tuesday.
I could have worn some comfy jeans
But I like how you make me look
Big chest, small waist
Long legs, bland face
Like she whose job is it to hook.
But alas, alack the pain I feel
And the lengths that I must go
Oh bitchin’ dress
Are you worth this distress?
No no no no no no no!
So, dress I will laugh if you do dare to ask
If I’d wear you again-- not a chance!
Get out of my face
You’re being replaced
With hot pants, hot pants, hot pants.