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Thursday, March 13, 2003 Basement Files: Madonna children's book
It was announced last week that pop superstar Madonna has written five children's books to be published by Penguin. The first fable, "The English Roses," will be released in September. Chapter one appears below.
E-mily
There lived in London, on Grovner Street As nice a family as you'll ever meet Of the Roses, there were but three Father, mother and Emily
A normal home, a normal life A normal man, a normal wife But God had granted them a child Who burned with spirit free and wild
While Emily loved her parents dearly She longed for freedom almost yearly And now that she was in her teens She sought escape by any means
Emily Rose was a clever girl Bored to death with her narrow world She'd often sit atop her bed And conjure pictures in her head
In her thoughts she'd often float To islands distant, worlds remote And longed to find in places hidden All the things that were forbidden
And at night, beneath her covers Emily dreamt of distant lovers Where was Marco? Where Henri? To take her from this cruel ennui
But how could one as young as she Ever really hope to flee? And where to find this mental visa To make of London an Ibiza?
She asked a teacher, asked a tutor Both suggested a new computer The Internet would let her roam Beyond the strictures of her home
And so it was that Emily got Something that her father bought Not a dress, and not a toy But a Gateway to a world of joy
A little scared, a little nervous Emily read the Terms of Service She made a profile, scanned a pic Away they went with just a click
Vanished now was all despondence As Em awaited correspondence Maybe a pen pal, maybe a friend She'd read whatever people penned
And so she'd rush home from her classes To see what e-mail came to lasses But all too soon our girl would find A gnawing sickness in mankind
One man asked if she might pose Unencumbered by her clothes One suggested the strange burlesque Of hiding a webcam beneath her desk
From Wembley wrote a wealthy banker To ask if she might touch his wanker Some pictures from a noted barrister Made her blush and embarrassed her
A man who claimed to be from Leeds Described some shocking, filthy deeds Another man, a child molester Asked when she might visit Leicester
A creepy man whose name was Simon Threatened rupture to her hymen And though he wrote again as Aiden Still he wished to steal her maiden
A well-known guitarist, late of The Who Desired some candids from her loo The one-hit wonder Gary Glitter Asked to be her baby sitter
An Oxford don, expert in Druids Grew obsessed with Emily's fluids Another prof, conversant in Hegel Urged her clench the muscles Kegel
A ruddy man in Scotland's Perth Wrote approvingly of his girth Soon were streaming through her modem Ghastly pictures of his scrotum
A Dublin woman, bold and Sapphic Mailed some stories pornographic She sent a ticket from Aer Lingus Departing today for cunnilingus
Soon Em's hard drive bulged with files From well beyond the British Isles In time the men of every nation Suggested forms of degradation
A wealthy prince from Saudi Arabia Asked to see the poor girl's labia From his redoubt in Al Hafuf He begged her join in soixante-neuf
There came a note, signed Mr. Leland Sent from Christchurch, in New Zealand He offered to pay a sizable dowry To see her ravaged by a tribe of Maori
An Eskimo man, perhaps Aleutian Offered a curious form of ablution If she would come and kneel in Juneau He would bathe her with...well, you know
A gentleman from south of Turin Wished to soak her in his urine "Lift your petals, English flower, To Heaven's rain of amber shower"
An aristocrat, quite rich and well-born Sent a note from lovely Melbourne He offered Em a hearty g'day And the chance to serve as his bidet
A man from Sweden vowed to stay Well above the sordid fray Within a week, he too reverted To sending letters quite perverted
A German man, in fact Bavarian One obsessed with things ovarian Asked if she might deign to share Any blood-stained underwear
Another man who lived in Lisbon Asked if they might meet in Brisbane And there to the sound of didgeridoo He'd watch her mate with a kangaroo
A sinister man from Bergen, Norway Turned up lurking in her doorway A Belgian man, some kind of predator Came to London and (censored by editor)
At last arrived from old Milan A note inscribed with some élan "Come commit in my Italia Venal, mortal sins et alia"
Though it seems the height of folly Emily answered this Svengali And so it was that Emily Rose Grabbed a bag and packed her clothes
She left a note for Mum and Dad "I'll be back; don't be sad" Emily Rose...last seen alive Hitchhiking on M25 |
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