Yes, yes, yes, Dorothy Parker,
She's the bomb.
NINON DE L'ENCLOS,
<u>ON HER LAST BIRTHDAY</u>
So let me have the rouge again,
   And comb my hair the curly way.
The poor young men, the dear young men--
BANNED POSTBANNED POST They'll all be here by noon today.
And shall I wear the blue, I think--
BANNED POSTBANNED POST They beg to touch its rippled lace;
Or do they love me best in pink,
BANNED POSTBANNED POST So sweetly flattering the face?
And are you sure my eyes are bright,
BANNED POSTBANNED POST And is it true my cheek is clear?
Young what's-his-name stayed half the night;
BANNED POSTBANNED POST He vows to cut his throat, poor dear!
So bring my scarlet slippers, then,
BANNED POSTBANNED POST And fetch the powder-puff to me.
The dear young men, the poor young men--
BANNED POSTBANNED POST They think I'm only seventy!
Dorothy Parker
[This message has been edited by momdebomb (edited April 26, 2001).]
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