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By N. Merchant Submitted by Ophelia Date: 2002 Mar 17 Comment on this Work [[2002.03.17.22.38.25474]] |
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Ophelia was a bride of God, a novice Carmelite. In sister cells the cloister bells tolled on her wedding night. Ophelia was the rebel girl, a blue, stalking suffragette, who'd remedy society between her cigarettes. And Ophelia was the Sweetheart to a nation overnight. Curvaceous thighs, vivacious eyes, love was at first sight. Love. Ophelia was a demigoddess in prewar Babylon. So statuesque, a silhouette in black satin evening gowns. Ophelia was the mistress to a Vegas gambling man. Signor Ophelia, marachina Mafia courtesan. Ophelia was the circus queen, the female cannon ball. Projected through five flaming hoops to wild and shocked applause, to wild and shocked applause. Ophelia was a tempest, cyclone, a God damned hurricane. Your common sense, your best defense lay wasted and in vain. For Ophelia'd know your every woe and every pain you'd ever had. She'd sympathize and dry your eyes. Help you to forget and help you to forget. And help you to forget. Ophelia's mind went wandering you'd wonder where she's gone. Through secret doors, down corridors, she wandered them alone, all al... N. Merchant N. Merchant N. Merchant N. Merchant N. Merchant!! DUH!!! |