Long white legs of hello

Here's a poem, perhaps not to move mountains, but at least to cause a shiver...

Image by ShonEjai from Pixabay

Up through the ranks of the barbarian hordes
With a my goodness me
Came two acres of long white legs of hello
Attached to a pin-up body
That could move mountains with a glance.
“Excuse me,” she said
Moving past all obstructions in her way.
What passed for a door became uneasy
At the intrusion upon its floor space.
“What do you think you’re doing?” it said
In the strange voice all doors have.
“I’m looking for the dance floor,” said the long white legs
Looking around for the stairway to heaven.
“Allow me to show you the way,” said the door
Opening for her to go through.
As long legs went through
The door slammed on her
And wouldn’t open again
Even though she banged upon it most insistently.
It was the wrong door
And now she was on the other side of it
With no way back.
“Oh deary, deary me,” she said
And turned around to see where she was.
A happy excuse with no withdrawal symptoms
Was sitting on a box waiting for her.
“Customer 29, you’ve returned, how nice,”
He said to her in the lazy voice he’d bought for a song
And a bag of spuds.
Long legs in her red shoes walked over to him
And slapped him down his face
And caused a shower of sparks
That set off her red shoes nicely.
“Now what’s wrong?” he asked her
Holding his sore face.
“I’m not feeling appreciated,” she said
And kicked him on the shin
And then walked off to find a bathroom
Leaving the doorman behind rubbing his leg.
“We aim to please,” he called after her
But not loudly just in case she came back.
In a moment of extraordinary silence
A dead chicken was delivered to the vegan restaurant
And then the radio came back on
That was not feeling too well
And all sins were forgiven.
“You can have anything you want tonight,” said the man
On the corner through his megaphone
And just then God’s wife walked past looking for a taxi.
“Hello again,” he said.
“Hello you too,” she said.
“I found the Viagra just where you said it would be,”
And so saying she gave him a wink
And jumped in a taxi to go home
To prepare for a night to remember.
Another man, carrying God’s old suitcase
Given to him by God himself
As his good deed for the day
To help the poor and underprivileged
Put the suitcase on the pavement corner
Opened it and pulled out a placard that read:
Relent for the end is Fear, and began waving it about.
“Do you mind?” said the first man there indignantly
But was ignored.
God’s suitcase yawned;
While over in rural Mississippi
Two girls were listening to a story
That was a long way from home.

Image from Pixabay