a study toward sonnet #504 by FisherKingKQJ
My uncle, like a Trojan, worked long hours,
A hundred hours per week; he'd always upbraid
My mother with supercilious glowers,
Her microskirts, her rouge cheeks overmade.
For family he was a stickler, and he forbade
The mention of my dad the drunken fool;
For junior black sheep, I was nicely paid,
He hired me fresh from secretarial school.
One night, I observed his own golden rule,
On my desk he was striking at a blond,
And intertwining, they sweat a typing pool,
The boss, the sales rep of whom he was fond.
I told my hairstylist who told her chum,
Who told my aunt who supported mum.
(Chorus)
I told my hairstylist who told her chum.
I told my hairstylist who told her friend.
I told my hairstylist who told her pal.
[Autocube3 - autocue for 3d interactive movies.]