Moscow Shop Girl's Anger
MOSCOW SHOP GIRL’S ANGER
Never knew quite what wind blew up her skirt
Maybe the way I dressed or my shoe’s unbrushed dirt
Like a woman scorned, her fury knew no bounds
Like when the fox has successfully eluded the hounds
The tongue-lashing was the first salvo in her armament
Couldn’t even get a word in to show my disagreement
Oh but the extremes of modulation in her voice tone
Made me glad I could see her and not just be on the phone
For the facial gestures and the eyelash lashes she performed
Were an accompaniment not to miss in her tirade as she stormed
Through Act I into Act II when the hands on hips were a prelude
To a theatrical show that simply had to be viewed
Then the head was tossed several times for effect
And the brushed hair floated around in a circle perfect
I’m sure the audience was rapt and about to applaud
Had they not seen something about her display which was flawed
Her rhetorical questions, her cleft sentences, her exclamation marks
Left no impression on her target, like smiling at a dog that barks
This guy, they thought, must be deaf, dumb and blind
To be so unimpressed by a prima donna performance of this kind?
Maybe he is straight off the funny farm and unaware of her sarcasm?
Or perhaps he has a weak constitution and is about to have a spasm?
They had no inkling and neither did she : the reason for my lack of discussion
Was simply that I didn’t understand her spoken Russian.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . . . ..
Entered in Andrea's Contest
SHOW ME THE FUNNY PART TWO
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