A Party of Cavers 29/10/21

Yesterday I came to your house for a party 

With rum in my hand and flowers in my hair 

I came dressed as Frida Kahlo 

That makes it sound a lot more romantic than it was 

I left dressed as her as well. 

The only lick of paint was the scarlet, 

Carefully dragged across my mouth, 

And set in a smile as I reached 

Up to ring the door bell

You opened the door, dressed as a mask 

Not the fun halloween kind, but a covid one

This basically constitutes of a blue dress, 

You looked lovely though (and less scary than a global pandemic) 

You warned me of the high volume of cavers 

And the apology for my lateness vanished from my lips. 

Instead I asked: 

‘Mate, what the fuck is a caver?’ 

Before you could answer

A tall lanky man careered down the stairs behind you 

Wearing a crop top

And boxer shorts 

And

Not much else 

Our friend, already here of course, 

‘On time’ she says,’ 

’Sorry’, I say,

‘Early’ I think to myself

Tells me how your housemate chastised her costume 

‘Not enough skin’ apparently 

‘For a Halloween party?’ I ask 

I didn’t think skin was all that scary 

The theme was ‘as few clothes as possible’ you explain 

This is news to me 

I jokingly offer to take my dress off 

But the flowers are in my hair now, 

And the monobrow took me an hour 

So it’s naked Kahlo or nothing 

And with all due respect, 

I’m not sure Frida would have liked that very much at all 

My bad joke reminds me of a tattoo I once saw 

On the arm of a girl in Nottingham 

It was Frida Kahlo nestled in a flower 

Distinguishable only by her face, 

And that glorious eyebrow 

The rest was unrealistic; she had her tits out

I support free the nipple, but not Frida’s nipple

She already has enough going on I reckon 

What with the painting and polio

And that bloody streetcar accident 

And Diego is a no-go, so don’t even get me started 

I told the girl I liked it anyway. 

I wanted her to like me and women are scary and, 

Well that’s all there was to it really

I don’t think it’s the worst lie in the world

And besides, women are scary. 

Especially Frida - hence the halloween costume

Anyway the night continued on 

And the next day my best mate and I debriefed the night before

Pissing ourselves over iced coffee and bad hash browns

About guys in bars and churches of tequila 

And that fucking Frida tattoo

… 

The next day you text me to thank me for being your rock 

I text back: ‘It was either that or one of the cavers might have tried to climb me’

You haven’t texted back yet 

But I hope you found it funny