Short Doxy Poems

Look unhappy
Doxy to wife
Not quite a life....

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Through hazy mirrors
A doxy appears to be doused
Within suicide languages
Hips bemoaning white filigrees
Caressed by a famine of beatitude
designed to elicit tragedy...

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As the bark of fear ascends
callow pages crease 
illustrating a youthful doxy
abreast a sheet of smoke
waltzing betwixt velveteen lips
as if tomorrow’s mistakes 
mattered yesterday...

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SHIVER ME TIMBERS!

Once a cut-throat and cannon ball dodger
Now a one legged salty old codger
But when ship enters docks he
Will look up an old doxy
And hoist up with a good Jolly Roger...

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You were a doxy, her grandson said in surprise
She nodded, a Parisian party girl, that ain’t no lie
Kind of a vampy tramp, said his ignoramus cousin Jim
You will get it all now, Grandma said; I leave nothing to him....

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How much Time you spend in me
You don't  hear , you don't see
The God is here the God is there
He knows how much I really care
I am not fine but I can be
Sun is down over the Sea
The pungent moment is too much rare
And my doxy  want to share
The moon is alone but not free...

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I love fat cat city, I fit in so incredibly well!
This song was sung by Poindexter, friend from the dell.
Here it is okay to have lusciously large thighs and hips
We make fun of the teeny tiny cats unfed on ships

I love fat city, where big fluffy toms dwell and pants aren’t creased
Poindexter gave himself a savvy mirror sneak look, and he was pleased
This is the place I had been looking for my entire life.
A place to find a Rubenesque rounded curvy doxy of a wife....

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