The Mullens have such great taste, they do!
Their fleur-de-lises look superb on the azure-painted wall,
And the antimacassars look so neat… despite being too small.
The ridges of the birchen trim–no, not the trim with “these”–
Yes, that! It looks so good, the trim with all the gold Greek keys!
Grandmother’s house looked just like this
When I was but a child,
And though I see they share her taste,
Why ever is this room tiled?
Their chandelier hangs proudly from the nicest iron chain,
The kind that you can only ship from Denmark or Ukraine!
The candleholders on the wall were styled to be French…
But I’d never stoop to place below a Louis XVI bench.
I’ve never seen a study so
Luxurious as this,
Nor have I seen a drawing room
That was this much amiss.
I love the painting on the wall with the purple wildflowers,
And the grandfather clock of cherry wood which ticks away the hours,
But I can’t say I like this horrid wallpaper design,
With all those angel baby faces staring… “oh, hah! It’s fine!”
“Ms. Mullen your accoutrements,
Are so décolletage,
Do I know what that means? Oh, well…
I do love your corsage!”
Of all the busts and paintings all around, of each side table,
And more than all the buttresses and arches, or the gables,
What I find most sublime about this little parlor here
Is the chaise lounge they put in the wrong place, but not to fear.
A nice rococo chaise, I’d say…
An eighteenth-century?
Yes, I know when the era was,
I want to feel smart, let me!
The cushions are of silk, the body feels like matelassé,
But underneath the trompe l’œil, it won’t see the light of day.
How criminal of them to keep it tucked away back here!
I have to take this into my own hands, my dear, I fear.
Its eggshell white upholstery
Is such a pretty sight,
It should be over here, and–oh!
It’s so shockingly light.
If I just put the detailed leg with all of the gold leaf
Beside this Grecian urn then… damn! It’s blocking the relief.
Well, over here beneath the flood light should do just the same…
And here we go… two steps… and–snap! Oh God, I’ve rent it lame.
“Miss Mullen, I apologize,
Profusely, dear, I do.
What’s that? You’ve hated it for years?
Oh, Grandmama gave it to you…”
And so I took the chaise lame home and did some carpentry,
And after a grueling hour of work, it stood again for me!
And though I’m truly grateful–yes, I’m happy to have toured–
I think next time I’ll have to smash the Ruckers harpsichord!