(This poem was brought to you by the letter...V!)
She vacuums the worn carpet
Her gaze on the surface vague and vacant
But when you lift the lid
She has been ****** into a vortex
Of whirling cosmic space dust.


She's entered a parallel universe
There her name is Vanessa
And her life's so diverse
By day she announces on
underground trains
  'mind the gap, next stop
Mornington crescent'
Her voice is sweet, virtuous,
clear and efficient
  But by evening her voice has
  more va va voom
She sings sultry jazz
in a smoky back room.
She looks almost the same
Voluptuous lines and a
red haired mane
But gone is any trace of mundane.  

Each verse of song she wraps in a sway of the hips side to side
and a ravishing smile
 And if the audience  try it on
or  become volatile
A valiant handsome trilby wearing
gentleman
Can warn them off  
With a choice few nouns
And vexing verbs
make them run a mile

And after the show
She and the gentleman
Vanish from view
And as their heated passion grows
 They sink down onto A velveteen couch
 exploring her peaks n valleys
With his keen mouth
And she traces his muscles
Vivid veins, v lines
She reaches his peak further south.



Back out of the vortex
And back in the room
She is breathless
And her heart is fast and keen
She has stopped the vacuum
Instead saught solace
In the vibrations of her washing machine