Pamela Anderson writes lengthy poem about unwashed vegetables and the lost 'art' of sex
No one is quite sure what inspired the 1,209-word ode, which appears to be a form of cathartic expressionism
Published 12/07/2014 | 12:52
Pamela Anderson has penned an epically long poem about many, many things - including vegetables - but mainly the difficulties of being in and falling out of love.
Maybe it was cathartic for her (she has just announced her second divorce from husband Rick Salomon), but the 1,209-word stream of consciousness is utterly undecipherable to the rest of the world.
In it, she laments the “lost art” of sex, “the cruel smell of blossom” (a scent that tends to be well-liked by most, but each to their own), “lost female security”, seemingly caused by “coded and loaded cell phones” – but, frankly, it’s difficult to tell either way.
She goes onto describe how much she misses Playboy and “chivalry and elegance”, two words seldom associated with Hugh Hefner or his brand. Then comes an inexplicable segment about unwashed vegetables.
Perhaps it’s intended to be free-flowing and experimental in the style of Allen Ginsberg. But obviously Anderson isn’t Ginsberg, rendering it all a little nonsensical. The whole thing - which you can read in full on her Facebook page if you so should wish - must have taken her hours.
But, for your enjoyment, here are a few selected highlights:
The cruel smell of orange blossoms/
I love being in love— but expectations/
make it impossible to be happy/
I've tried... so hard/
maybe it's not in fashion/
Tradition...just seemed so romantic/
I guess it's a used up ideal/
for the old fashion/
Female security... lost/
Coded, and loaded Cell phones/
Ordering sex on line/
is like ordering a book on Amazon/
and ... snooping eats you alive/
No man knows what to do with me/
I blame myself/
To play with me, is eternal/
Never marry a rich man/
Euros from a Vagabond/
Where are the great lovers?— A lost art/
God , I hope not/
I've never been to Columbia— Should I go?- I really want to go!/
Is this Hysteria?/
now— Coming down from the ceiling/
dripping in gold glitter/
ME- I miss PLAYBOY/
The End of an Era/
differences... hot—-passionate dreamy scenes/
Are we all going crazy?/
or, is it just me?/
Is it that stuff on unwashed vegetables?/