15 Master Virgil's Deceyte - Duncan McGibbon (best book club books of all time txt) 📗

Model

For only ten thousand and one dollars
before Tim Harvey's bedroom -Hamlet mirrors,
King Quantitty, the fashion deity, woke,
evading the image of a middle-age bloke.

He called for his phones. He called for his fee
He called for his salaried gurus three.
"I'm tired," he said, "I'm tired of Quantitty.
of these little drips in a Mossy smock
It's time girls dressed in somthing to shock
I want the new horror movie style
in leather and gore; it might be a while
to get it in motion, but the sugar-twin set's out."
at the other end, a thoughtless silence, than a shout
of adulatory, "It's great”s. “It's what we've been researching
We'll get the grey-market up and working.”
By half-past nine, his pager bleeped
while through his blood, Krug '49 seeped
“I don't want a vampire, I don't want a ghoul,”
I want a monster with style claws, too cruel
We've dreamed of a fabulous idea
We're sending you round the Lamia.
Quantitty looked through the spy-hole
it was the model from his firm, Eyestole.
"She was a gruesome shape of expensive hue
lemon-spotted, lime and syrup and glue,
striped like a baboon, spotted like a cat,
roundelled like a spitfire, shaggy as a mat.
and full of mercury beads that as she winked
displayed a Lopez bottom as she inchedher rainbow sides against the door jambs
and smiled her greeting from lips to hams.
Quantitty sizzled, rolled over in his fat
and let the woman in to the lobby of his flat.
She slunk into the room, in her black-cotton shirt
and twirled in the hem of her leathertight skirt
She hissed. He kissed. They tongued. She spoke
'I was a woman once, let's shoot some coke
then give me back my female shape. This stuff
for New World nutters, I've had enough
of fantasies; they've only real for therapists
I, ever passed the tests. I only know I'm pissed"
“Branquito's cloaks won't protect you now
Before I change you, make a vow
you'll give your look to a new range of gear
that I want to flog to people who's queer.”
“Make me a human and I'll do
just about anything for you.
So I'll give you my lemon, I'll give your my lime
I'll give your my syrup and I'll give you my sweet
My strips and my beads, my spats and my glue
I'll give you anything, old or new.
Just make me human, just like you
so I won’t go back to the mythology zoo.”

Quantitty smiled and waved his wand
“Because of you I've grown so fond
I'll change you, fault of NI year’s missed,
you won't be human just a fashion journalist.
I want you to join forces, don't you see,
with someone called Justine Picardie.”
She screamed, she pouted, she swore out loud
and protested long with pitched screams endowed.
“Don't make me a writer; don't put me on a rack
Don't wave your wand, but just put me back”
with that, to Chanel, the wormly form withdrew
in nether hells Quantitty never even knew.
Imprint

Publication Date: 01-19-2011

All Rights Reserved