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She's Too Hot: Comedy Poetry

Chris has written poetry for 28 years though he focuses on short fiction. But watch out for the occasional twisted nursery rhyme.


She's Too Hot

She enters the theater

all alight.

Before the film started,

My date arrived.

My first date,

With her that is.

I’m having second thoughts,

It’s the flaming red hair biz.

She sits down,

My stomach churns.

Hot seat for the hot,

Her popcorn is burned.

Her Snickers melts.

Chocolate splatters.

She’s really that hot,

Music by the Platters.

Smoke, they sing,

Gets in Your Eyes.

Flaming red,

I tell no lies.

Lights go out,

The film airs.

People grumble,

I think it’s her hair.

Flaming red,

I hold her hand.

But she’s too hot,

For this poor man.

I pour my coke

Upon her hair

To stop the grumbling

To turn the stares.

Someone yells fire,

we already know.

She’s too hot.

The curtains drop low.

Lights come on,

I look at her seat.

A pile of ashes,

Is all I see.

I sweep them off,

get up to leave.

“Hey, where’s your girl?”

Who? Ashley?

I brushed her off.

Too hot for me.

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