A satirical poem about a problem date.
|The Girl I Met at Church
Donna was her name... the girl I met at church,
And every time I went, for Donna I would search.
A tall and healthy teen, with hair of chestnut brown.
A beauty of a lass, the loveliest in town.
But Donna's looks deceived, for all was not so well.
My passion always fled, when near her body smell.
Her pits were rancid tombs, smelling of deaths decay,
But still I longed for her, in some unhealthy way.
The lot of us were set, to bowl a game or two,
"Will you please be my date?" I asked without a clue.
She hugged as she said yes, I thought that I might faint,
Since every step she walked, the air around she'd taint.
The group had all arrived, and Donna looked my type.
She came to sit with me...my God the girl was ripe!
We rented bowling shoes, then went back down to sit.
When Donna barred her feet, I thought I'd have a fit.
The game was going well, we beat the other team,
With every strike she threw, her high fives made me scream.
I vainly hoped she'd try, to smell nice for our date,
To spend my life with her, could never be my fate.
When half way through the eve, she saw her old boyfriend,
They started holding hands, I smiled about our end.
She came to say "Dear John, I'm going back to Mitch."
I said "it's OK Donna", and left the stinking b.....
A word to all you gals, who have that sort of musk,
Who have to torture all, you meet from dawn till dusk,
Please take a cleansing bath, before you meet your date,
Or every man you meet, will flee with rapid gait.