This is a poem.
She was a good woman, I think.
Clean & heavy
Like a bar of soap in a bowl of water
And a face like a bow-legged elephant had walked through wet cement.
And dry, white light coming from two medium sized holed in the middle of her back,
An effect, which, quite frankly, seemed a bit overblown.
You could say she looked ethereal in that light
But the screws in her elbows and the magnets in her knees would suggest otherwise.
And sometimes she'd be forced to sit there
With her elbows stuck to her knees
And she looked like she was thinking hard
And all that light poured out of her back
And people would say she looked beautiful,
But I don't think it's very nice to make fun of a person's handicap like that.
Clean & heavy
Like a bar of soap in a bowl of water
And a face like a bow-legged elephant had walked through wet cement.
And dry, white light coming from two medium sized holed in the middle of her back,
An effect, which, quite frankly, seemed a bit overblown.
You could say she looked ethereal in that light
But the screws in her elbows and the magnets in her knees would suggest otherwise.
And sometimes she'd be forced to sit there
With her elbows stuck to her knees
And she looked like she was thinking hard
And all that light poured out of her back
And people would say she looked beautiful,
But I don't think it's very nice to make fun of a person's handicap like that.