I have lost plenty of stilettos down the road
where is my Prince?
(and I don’t mean
Paisley Park)
this is my Jimmy Choo
my Manolo Blahnik sonnet
hail, to the low life
the bottom feeders
bottoming out
promoting their reality
so we can sit on our hamstrings
inhaling hotdogs and alka-seltzer
F.A.M.E.
that four letter word
that bitch in heat
she comes bottled in
her own hot sauce
burning our bellies
she is the spice
of this life
the main condiment
we order her in epidemic proportions
there is no portion control
our appetite is obese
gorging on gossip
bingeing on bling and accessories
and that seductive
new car smell
selling out
schilling this, that
and our Mother
til someone yells Uncle
and we give in
to temptation
to degradation
to alienation
with extra cheese
sucking down huge Slurpies of smut
and insatiable desires to make it big
make it fast
make it or break it
we are fixated
worshipping
the almighty
Ca-ching
Ca-ching
Ca-ching
couch potatoes turning into mashed potatoes
with an order of fries
can I get that super-sized?
medicating cries of the truth
because no one can handle it
put at saddle on it and ride this
dog and pony show
“there’s no business, like show business
like no business I know
everything about it is appealing…”
extra, extra read all about it
text me, sext me, blog me,
flog me, fuck me, spank me
just thank me
that I haven’t succumbed to complete
narcissism and catatonia
see me, feel me, touch me heal me
heal me, heal you,
heal your neighbor
before you feel the big-bang
and before you know it
bang, bang
you’re dead
L. K. Thayer
© 2013
Drives me crazy more and more every time I read this…. Talk about blowing my mind!!!!
Words with such devine thighs cracks my nuts ~ Oh Lisa soooooooooo love this ~x~
I am so happy you do Mitch and wish it was a happy ending, but we will all make the best
of our situation….don’t you just love that new car smell? Give me a Slurpie, make it a double!!
Adore you, thanks! ~ x ~
F*ck the car I just love the thighssssssssssss
Good to see that creative spark is in full gear my darling!!!
Keeeeep revvvvvvvvvvvvvving ~x~
Healing just to be touched by your hot sauce poem.
Makes me wish I was thw one you wanted to be next to you in your car – wonderful poem.
You are the real deal, baby. Sexy wonderful whacky artist. What more is there?