Profundities and Perversities

FEELING SO FRENCHY

I’m feeling so frenchy,
I’ll fly off to France
For a sail down the Seine
In my underpants.

With my pompidour poofed,
My poodle in tow,
I’ll prove I’m as pretty
As Brigitte Bardot.

I’ll be so entrancing
On the Champs Élysées,
Disarming the gendarmes
With song and Cliché!

Like a petite pāté,
Just born for baguette,
I’m your blonde Dubonnet,
Demure French coquetté.

I’m so trés uppercrust
In my small chateau,
Champagning my guests
And musing Merlot.

Were I wed to Matisse,
Or even Monet,
My new French impression
Would not fade away.

My reign or French runways
Will be fashion’s peak,
As the cream of couture
Come ogle my chic.

I’ll transfix, as chanteuse,
In Cannes cabaret;
At Folies Bergére,
I’ll bare and bidet.

We’ll amour in Lyon,
So, oh, magnifique
And repeat, on the Rhone,
Each day of the week.

But a romp in Provence
With a rogue, risqué,
Would be c’est la vie
With a playful roué.

He’d be gastronomique,
A gorgeous gourmet,
My French-forked edible
For some ooh la lay.

I’m the Arc de Triomphe,
Coquette cavalier;
I’m too loose for Lautrec,
And even more dear.

Since becoming so frenchy,
So bon Beaujolais,
Should I, someday, return,
Let’s parlez francais!