The Girl in the Gorilla Suit
The first time I set eyes on her
I knew it was love at first sight.
She stood in front of a pizzeria
wearing a gorilla suit
and waved at me
as I swerved by.
Of course I was surrounded
by a dozen other honkers
but I just knew
from the eyes that stared at me
through those plastic brown holes
that the furry she ape
was beckoning for me
and I wondered as I flipped a U-turn
over the daisy covered medium
how I knew it was a she?
Oh, I had never seen
an ape with curves like that
she had to be
because she brought out the beast in me.
I went inside to place an order
and the greasy cook caught me staring
at his hairy little monkey
so he guffawed at me and stated
“she’ll be off in five, maybe she would like a banana.”
What a crude bastard, I thought
as I carried my meat lovers out the door
and there in the parking lot I met her
pulling off her gorilla head
she shook her blond tresses
misting me with her monkey dew
my mind escaped me and I muttered
“Me Tarzan, you Jane.”
She giggled, eyeing me quizzically
“Who is Jane?”
Oh, god, she must be young
I sure hope she likes bananas.
We sped off into the deep dark concrete jungle
and we made love until the rising of the moon
where to my horror
my little suit-less ape girl
began to sprout real hair
and uttered a werewolves howl
but I managed to tame the wild beast
though she scratched and clawed my back
and yes, severely bit my banana
and I held my little ape girl werewolf
until the rising of the sun
where she waved again
but this time goodbye
leaving me wounded and weary
and wondering why
I can’t control this fetish
for women with hairy armpits.
