I had lunch with Julie London
figure conscious
in a black cocktail dress
I nibbled canapes
imagining the neat nape
of your neck
someone smiled at me
across the room
and I apologised
for imagining
such trifling snacks
I had lunch with Julie London
she was singing
with a bitter twist
in her tail
I drank three whisky sours
and didn't think of you again
I didn't think
of your parted lips
or your glistening tongue
or the taste of highballs
in Paradise Park
-------
I couldn't resist sending this - a mere trifle written a while ago and
resurrected by Chris' evocative words:
At 11:50 13/11/99 +0900, pain wrote:
Listening to a cheap, cheap cd, The Girl Can't Get It, and
>Julie London singing " Cry Me A River".
orlando
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