Saturday, September 10, 2005

Time for a Break. . . .

During my one semester in teachers' training, I tried to tell my class that poetry was everywhere. Their faces told me they believed I lied. I didn't. To wit:
Ernest Daltroff be praised for this 1919 utterly midnight masterpiece aphrodisiac of ancient bone-dry leather and golden blond, cured tobacco with perfectly orchestrated notes of carnation, linden, iris, vetiver, ylang-ylang and lime tree leaf. At its core-of-the-earth base is a weighty collection of vanilla amber, cedar, patchouli and musk. Tabac Blond is one of the very few parfums of its kind that a woman with full, pouty, scarlet lips and a racing pulse would wear. Its potent, swarthy, sinfully dark and earthy qualities are enough to send a nun to the dark side ... and beyond. And that is its triumph.
And who could resist? Must run off now to eBay and get sum. . . .

No comments: