Of all American songstresses
They say there is none fairer
Than the little dame with the massive voice
Named Christina Aguilera.
So imagine my delight
When I was offered the chance to grill her
About any subject of my choice
Provided I brought a mirror.
I pondered on this odd request
As they led me to her room
Through corridors of lifelike statues
Bathed in eerie gloom.
Her assistant grabbed my arm
As we approached Christina's door
And said: "Now listen carefully,
There is a rule you can't ignore:
Don't look into Christina's eyes
If you want to make it home;
She's a modern day Medusa
And she'll turn you into stone.
There's nary a man or woman alive
That she's not prepared to freeze,
From record company executives
To Grammy nominees."
And peering through the keyhole
I could see the myth was true;
Her hair was made of writhing snakes
Her face a steely blue.
I wished I'd brought a sickle
To lop off her evil head
But decided not to take the risk
And went to meet Pink instead.
tags: christina aguilera pink grammys medusa mythology poems
2 comments:
FANTASTIC!!
Just brilliant!
Post a Comment