Most audience members cried “Shame!”
When Vaslav, Diaghilev’s flame,
Defiled the veil
In a pastoral tale.
But wankers were happy they came.
While posing above an abyss,
Poor Oscar said something amiss –
A damnably glib
“The boy was too ugly to kiss.”
A savvy old sapphist named Gertie,
Considered by many too wordy,
Dashed off the Life
Of Toklas, her wife,
While leaving out everything dirty.
All those who love stunners with smarts –
If not in real life, in the arts –
Should go to a show
By surreal Cocteau.
The guy gave Jean all the best parts.
Fag-haggery sure worked out well –
For Duncan, that is. As for Bell:
A broken down heart
And second-rate art
Bloomsburied by critics from hell.
“Helping her cousin on wheels
Broker a couple of deals
Made the first lady
A little tribade-y,”
Eleanor chronicler squeals.
Architect Mies van der Rohe
Told Philip to put on a show:
“A house made of glass,
Surrounded by grass
Some stripling would then have to mow.”
“Atonal is straight, tonal gay,”
Claim students of Miss Boulanger.
“Take little Ned:
Even in bed
He’d carry a tune all the way.”
Folk with a fondness for rock
Underwent rather a shock,
Hearing young Janis
Sound like a man is:
Throaty, and chock full o’ cock.
After couture worn by Twiggy,
Who might have dared getting jiggy?
Not women with fat,
Who unlike Ms. Sprat
Would rather look lean than seem piggy.
A factory worker, named Andy,
Drew dead stuff that perverts found dandy.
He’d cheat, though, a bit,
With slides then backlit.
“So darling!” said co-worker Candy.
Would anyone fantasize sex
With he-men completely convex
Had Arnold not stumped
For muscles as pumped
As Austrian glutes, quads, and pecs?
Having been raised as a prude,
Julia got wed, then got lewd.
Hubbie now tips,
Licking his lips,
“Why don’t you get cordon bleu-ed?”
A tennis-mad trannie recalls
Some ref causing media squalls
By banning his play
As Doctor “Renée”
And saying she’s really got balls.
A power-crazed prof who knew Greek,
Apparently phallicly weak,
Told an old Brahman
With insight uncommon:
“I can’t make my subaltern shriek.”
A spankable critic named Eve
Wrote books that made homophobes heave.
She’d give them depictions
Of anal addictions
That showed them how not to conceive.
The queerness of opera queen Wayne
Arose from his feeling the pain
Of diva roles juicy
As Lammermoor’s Lucy –
A bride who was bloody insane.
A plague, during youth, of some tics –
From lisping to taking one’s licks –
Made David compose
On pussies and assholes and dicks.