FLOOR  PLAN JOURNAL

 

                             Fancy Woman

 

Naked, the hatcheck girl

brings us

beyond haberdashery

to new coatrooms

of delight.

Against the boom boom

of thunder we

see the catacombs

of ancient sin

brought to perfection.

 

Theodora, you whore;

even the geese were

overpaid, pecking the

grain off your privates,

while generals watched.

 

That day the Hippodrome

was quiet:

the pantomime mocked

the glorious noisy chariots,

the noisy birds in cages.

 

Theodora, rant and rave:

your singing voice

nothing but your

stupid skin

shown off in broad daylight.

 

But the nightingale

is not much

on daylight;

the darker, the better

he sings.