I'm under the weather, but there's no need to neglect my blog. It's just brief today-like this wicked little poem.
INTERVIEW
By Dorothy Parker
The ladies men admire,
I've heard,
Would shudder at a wicked word.
Their candle gives a single light;
They'd rather stay at home at night.
They do not keep awake till three,
Nor read erotic poetry.
They never sanction the impure,
Nor recognize an overture.
They shrink from powders and from paints...
So far, I've had no complaints.
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