Ode to a Less than Demure Acquiantance of Mine
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
She needs no introduction - she speaks for herself
in a voice audible from Hawaii to Guelph;
she’s a gold medal cert at the Loudmouth Awards,
she’s the girl with the big gob and vast vocal chords.
She trumpets her trivia like it’s the news
of a triumph at 22 new Waterloos
and immediately everyone stands and applauds
the girl with the big gob and vast vocal chords.
The corridor quivers, the office is rent
by what sounds like a dread cataclysmic event,
but it’s not the approach of barbarian hordes,
it’s the girl with the big gob and vast vocal chords.
It’s quieter now, though it still perseveres,
since I took a machete to each of my ears -
for no nuclear warhead or army of swords
can silence her big gob or vast vocal chords.
She brays like a buzz-saw, now distant, now near,
as insufferable as she is insincere;
oh emptiest vessel, most brazen of broads,
oh girl with the big gob and vast vocal chords!