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​Poetry

Threadbear

​

I was sewn
to sit- and I do!
this red bow
around my neck
means I belong to you

My nose
is stitched
my eyes
hard round black
see you without guise

​

How lucky
so intimate
you hold me
in this embrace
we cuddle and we draw close

I am thread
and stuffing
a red bow
and no soul
you don’t seem to mind

Catwalk

 

Talk to me, little model, tell me your tale of woe
On your elevated platform in a fashion show
Show me things I can never wear
You got the style
But you never smile
You just got miles and miles
Of skin and bone and perfect hair

​

Step out onto the catwalk like a wide-eyed doe
White lines behind the scenes in this dog and pony show
Show me things I can never wear
Show me styles
But never smiles
Just miles and miles
Of skin and bone and perfect hair

​

It’s all a catwalk
Turn on a dime in stiletto time
Paparazzi stalk
From the ridiculous to the sublime

​

Hey hey little girl
Slinky and looking like a picture from a magazine
Making all the girls looking on turn green
Looking like you were hot off the press
Acting like you couldn’t care less
But still dressing to impress!

Show us what’s new
A fabric we can see through
Winner of design revue
Not for many, but the few
These clothes only look good on you

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