World's Tallest Women

She's the tallest woman ever scene,
three stops up the flag pole, maybe more,
not much of a head from that I can see, a  bowling ball
perched pyramidal, a bald headed eagle on top of Mt.Whitney,

We meet at a function for snoots and degenerates.
A fag, who purports to be a fashion designer,
insists he spray my face with his designer laced scent.
I says to him, "How do I know you ain't CIA?

You wanna do me a flavor, roll me a joint,
and you take the first drag... just in case"
At that, Designer (masquerading as a fairy queen)
does a pantomime fade to black.

In the mean while, the tallest woman ever
pulls from the dense of  her undergarments
a wart of drawings as impressive
as impressive (I say) as Da Vinci's  sketched inventions!

The etches, me Lady, skechet were of train stations
and factories East German crumbling, and in the midst
a man in an Abraham Lincoln top hat. This mensch of zilch
floated on inflated pantalones.

This guy of zeros foretold of World Theater's last curtain call;
"...in an orgy of feasting, Planet smittereens into Big Bang retrofit.'
And in the mean while, the world meanest woman
went missing but turned up three decades later in Warsaw.

Surprisingly, me Lady was now a whole lot shorter than formerly.
Thus, no longer would I have to suffer the indignation of  Femme Fatale
towering over me, and  I having to mount a fire engine ladder merely to catch
a glimpse of the interior of her Roman nostrils.

"Dearest,"  I panted "suffer me to read you these hear verses
inspired by your statuesqueness".  She  retorted pissed;
 "Get Ucked, you Oron!  I  take here the license to self censor.
Why, oh why, do I always fall for the wrong length of woman???

I swear one day,
I'm gonna get me the world's shortest girlfriend,
and she best be no bigger than a thimble.
Now then...where did I leave my leotards?