Cigarette One-Point-Oh
grammar school in rounded-toe
mary janes.
a kid of an oil spill baker’s
dozen brothers’ only sister.
Silverfish
i caught a cold.
(watching silverfish)
shimmey in an’out of my paltry
porridge cottage.
Skinny
skin is sheer and white as power,
freudian slurp! oh I mean powder.
powder chowder, chunky lymph
i node! i know! i sound so chic
with this spoon lodged
lodestone-vogue-megawatt up my nose!
It’s not a habit!--I’m a lover.
i married young
undercover of foresight
when really all my life was collages
in College, a girl so crafty!
(say design school if you’re nasty).
Auburn lipstick mocks religious--
grease paint is the banker's sauce.
thank brahma for divorce and metal,
mother for these vocal chords.
i was raised on gin an’ silk cuts
to be a femmey’s butch mob boss.
Therapathy! Heavens, I'm clever.
hell is evermore likely.
the best headshrinkers clamor to
and fro releasing sighs to classify
my enamour-ama preoc post-op
trollop to cop out and become a breeder.
Bulimic cheater
to breed droves
as driven as my rollz.
my dreams are a spotted despot:
A Puppy.
Now I am a killer heel.
Then a devil for brandy swill
Who's afraid of Cruella DeVille?
She is a vegetarian.
And a second wave feminist.
Author notes
As I flew the coup, a little chicky squealed "POST THE CRUELLA PIECE." I mention, then, "I did on Scratch Marks!"
Must every failure be so public? Scorn!
Don't you love the oh-so-obvious color scheme?
Fuck Disney.
What did you think
Comments
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Therapathy!
I love that, that's how I feel about it, and so I quit, and now look at me. (I haven't gotten better or worse, so there!) Well, this is stream-of-consciousness, but the wordplay makes it fun and engaging. Fabulosa! -
Second wave feminist....oh my, the precocious kid on the block is back for a bit...my youngest daughter...in 3rd year college seems to know your vocabulary and have similar feelings about the crassness (perceived) of the world around her...she even wants to leave for New Zealand following the election of GWB. Hope I live long enough to see you past the protest stage, aka Michael Moore, and move on to apply your magnificent mind and ability towards enlightening those lesser endowed who need you so badly...best regards as always....your old friend...amicus the incorrigible...
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I live happily, Turkmenistan
Oh Katie.
The irony is that as I read this, I think of the other side of the braken-sky and a hundred and one other things that make noises and steal food. And it makes me think of fine, high cheekbones and french fashion houses and silver-screen perfume. And no-one else does this, living reflection.
Oh Katie, I miss feeling like that.
Strip the world with turpentine, my darling, I'm going hunting.
(And the colour? Phan-tas-tique!)
Edited on Nov 05, 1:01 p.m. because 'I love Herpian Cheeses'.
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