Cities and Eyes III

Whose eyes - all liner, a flutter, mascara - and electric flashes of blue - sidle through a city with this kind of view?

"O, this and that, tit and tat ... And now there saunters up to me a gleaming skyscraper, with such resplendent height, and heavenly reach: almost a rival to my legs, to my thighs! And next some shop window, the clothes stupidly hung on dummies, with their inferior, pale, and flat plastic tummies. And then after a coffee with a blind date - those sideburns! - soon a swift dash - to the street and some tramp, begging for cash. Eep! but he called me lady, so maybe...

"And the windows amidst the walls are mirrors, and the tall and the small are admirers, and the man on the street is there to charm me, and the bells only sing and do not alarm me, and the blue of the sky is just a mirror, jealous of the colours in my eye, and, me O men!, look, here in the City, all there is to see is me."

(No, not I, not Fist.)

Answer to the question in the previous post: Stereotypical Poets.

(To be continued...)