Baby – I Love You And Your Moustache

Baby, it grows on you
That knightly fringe
that adorns your upper lip
Proud, majestic, manly
Curling at the ends,
so arrogant a growth
Twitching,
tense at every move
Like whiskers on a cat
Feeling, knowing – so sure
Baby – I love you
And your moustache
But – couldn’t we see
A specialist
And ask if we
Could remove it
And put it
On a fella

1968