by Kendra Allen

Created on: April 21, 2008

Although I dearly love my wife
And have no plans to stop,
I hate it when she makes me wait
At Velma's Fashion Shop.

Every time she disappears
With dresses from the rack,
The mannequins at Velma's shop
Speak low behind my back.

I try hard not to notice
And slump deeper in my chair
While they stare down from pedestals
With dead flies in their hair.

But if I dare to look away,
I hear the whispered quips
Intended for hard plastic ears
From frozen plaster lips.

Their condescending attitude
Is one to be abhorred
To stand in judgment on my life
In clothes I can't afford!

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