Full-fledged Gucci bitches bitch about their
daily business
while Versace suicides surface and
overflow from our
green-olived martini glasses
held in twenty-five hundred dollar leathered hands;
Fake leather;
Pseudo skins
like the ones we hide in.
Imitations bring us down,
but I'm okay with that.
So I pop some pills and
some vokda, you know
to get me started,
and I can get so high
I can't see the dirt embedded
in my diamond diamond diamond -well, cubic
zirconium- rings.
Medicated immorality and fur-coated
debauchery,
what a wonderful sight.
Botox-paralyzed faces stare
at me where plastic, collagen-filled
smiles would be.
Saline breasted chests
heave second-hand smoke from their lungs,
and long for silicone instead -so
what if they leak...
Fast cars and faster pens scratching
nothings and numbers and names
onto checkbooks.
I'll make a check out to you and you and
you
just 'cause I can.
I'm rich. I'm power.
I'm a no one with a few green backs. I'm better than you.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I got my braces taken off today. Go me.