my baby-my woman-my Chylde
my love is like a Cecile B. DeMille
u got me wrapped in ur Venus furs
Gone w/ the Wind; Forbidden Planet;
Wizard of Oz; Ten Commandments
all in one K-pop tears on my pillow
u want to hold me like an IMAX
Anaconda; u speak my language
not now my baby Supergirl; all the
marching heroes in their plumed
regalia marching to heaven (O when
the Saints go marching into battle)
that's what they meant & u walk into
my arms like Nefetiri; I'd prefer
Anne Baxter saucy petite ***** w/
bee-stung lips; I know ur pocketful
of cliches like wisdom; her little Jewish
state in the middle of the Arabs;
kissing in the shadows of the high stone
steps to the cloisters; marry her but
never fall in love w/ her; Dorothy
is not a ****** anymore; she met ******
& what happens happened; my love
is like a Cecile B. DeMille all Jewish
& blue like Bo Derek the Republican;
upon ur glistening green head sits
the shadow of ur corona O what a story!
my baby-my woman-my Chylde;
well fed slaves work well but not
better than our twelve women from hell