It's Always Darkest Before You Turn On The Light

ANOTHER  PUBIC  HAIR  POEM Hello, boys and girls, and welcome to poetry corner where today we will be looking at classical English poetry which was originally written about pubic hair but was amended to reflect the decency of the day.    BECAUSE I COULD NOT CLIP MY PUBES  by  Emily Dickinson (later ditched on the advice of her editor and replaced with 'Because I Could Not Stop For Death') Because I could not clip my pubes They grew down to my knee They fell in soft cascading tubes Embracing liberty Whenever I lay in the sun I heard the neighbours' snickers "Oh, look!  Her pubic hair's begun Escaping from her knickers!" But I will have the last laugh, for When wintry winds will storm While they are frozen to the core My pubes will keep me warm

FOOTLOOSE        My friend (I call her Noreen because that's her name) gave me a tube of exotic foot cream guaranteed to make my feet as smooth as a baby's bum - but not as smelly.  So that night as I was getting ready for bed, I got the cream and covered my feet in this luxurious, soothing lotion.  Notes of gardenia, lilac and amaryllis (I always thought that was a laxative) tickled my nose (which is almost as long as my foot, but that's another story).  My feet felt silky and smooth.  How smooth, you ask?  As smooth as a really silky thing that's just been polished.  I slid into bed and cuddled up beside the cat who was snoozing at the end of the bed.  Well, I swear to Jesus and his first cousin on his mother's side, Carmel, I was just dozing off when the cat decided it was the start of his day and wanted out.  He jumped off the bed and headed for the door.  And, of course, when he got there and discovere...

THE  SPANISH  LADY     There's a traditional Irish song called The Spanish Lady which goes like this: As I came down through Dublin city At the hour of twelve at night Who should I spy but a Spanish lady Washing her feet by candlelight    First she washed them, then she dried them Over a fire of amber coals In all my life I ne'er did see A maid so sweet about the soul Whack for the toora loora laddy Whack for the toora loora lay Whack for the toora loora laddy Whack for the toora loora lay (I have no idea what this last bit means but, knowing the Irish, I'm sure it's quite illegal and probably obscene.)  Clearly the song tells the story of a man on his way home at midnight who sees a Spanish woman washing her feet, and he's so taken by the sight that he looks in her window to admire her.  In other words, he's a pervert.  The song doesn't say what happens when this guy gets home, but I would imagine the co...