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Showing posts from June 27, 2010

Another Perfume Riddle

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Welcome to the second installment of my new feature here on Hortus Conclusus , in which a perfume bottle sings a little riddle, and it’s up to you, dear readers, to guess which bottle of perfume is riddling. Which of you will be the first to guess this one, I wonder? This poem is an emulation of Dr. Seuss’s genius rhyme about the Flooboober Babboober bubs in On Beyond Zebra , one of the first poems I memorized as a child: If sometimes you don’t feel like channeling mother, put me on, for I smell like blubbery rubber. I’m no good to eat and I’m kind of a Goth, (If one says that with color that repels the moth) Although I am housed with luxury baubles, I’d prefer an alley where the streetwalker wobbles. I’m green and I’m amber as well as a powder, but my signature note sings considerably louder. If you know who I am, then tell me my name though my brothers and sisters sound somewhat the same, I am quite unique; unlike them, I’m no hack. My name, my dear frien