Titania by John Simmons

Miniskirt Lament By Barbara Jo Mattson

Miniskirt, miniskirt, round my waist you ring.
How can I walk, when so tightly you cling?
Whan down I sit, up you ride;
My frilly undies, I try to hide.

Knees together, what a chore,
Feet placed firmly upon the floor.
Sit up straight, do not turn,
Oh! to slouch, how I yearn.

I'll never understand why women wear,
A skirt that leaves our legs so bare.
Someday, maybe, we'll get smart,
But until that day my legs won't part.