Monday, June 22, 2009

Pulp Poem of the Week

New York and Hollywood
is full of her, she is
everywhere you turn,
and when you have reached
the ripe age of thirty-six,
you have learned it is
useless to try to warn
her of the pitfalls.
Because nothing can daunt her--
nothing except time,
years of batting her pretty head
against too many disappointments,
and her firm white fanny
against too many mattresses.

Steve Fisher
No House Limit

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