I hate the word 'panties'.
Thou unworn underwear still and quiet,
banana underwear of silence and slow time,
oh!, fruity rumba short how I rejoice in thee.
What trendy and fine bananas haunt your shape,
What mad meshy and sweet pursuit? What wild ecstasy?
A ruffled extravaganza unheard,
Bananas play on;
Bananas cannot fade, reflector of my soul and tushie
For ever will thou be false bananas, and forever young
yet, do not grieve, they be fair!
Ah, happy Urban Outfitters hath directed the world
in it's search for banana underwear.
To the dollar strewn altar, mysterious 20-something priest
takes my money and lows
'Once underwear is worn, can ne'er return.'
O ruffled shape! O bananas golden!
Thou, underwear shall not remain silent,
in midst of other woe, to whom thou say'st,
'Bananas are underwear, Underwear bananas, -
That is all you know on earth, and all you need to know.'
Take that, John Keats.