Maria Victoria

January 10, 2010
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Drunk on your gin,
I didn't taste your bitter tonic
Sliding down my throat
Seeping from your mouth
Like sewage from lipsticked pipes.
Oh, you filthy whore.
Satan's booty-call.
You'd do anything to have your body loved.
Carrion crows circle overhead.
You smell like something that's been dead
For seven weeks or more (filthy whore)
With a touch of burning plastic.
Twitching, screeching, spastic.
Friends and foes circle the pole,
Lift their legs on fire hydrants.
Makeup smears, you grin and snap.
You're that one girl,
You make me hurl!
Maria Victoria...
I was stuck to your skin
Like it was flypaper
And I only had a day to live.
Gnawed my arm off,
Found a medic,
Changed my name, got away, got away.
"We'll end up together!
I'll wait forever!"
Okay--
So you're engaged
To this plot inside your hollowed head.
You smell like something that's been dead
Since the dinosaurs spat you out.
Waxing moon,
Liftoff's soon.
Grab your coat, corset, contraceptives;
You'll be needing them out there!
Maria Vicotria...
It's that stench I've learned to dread.
You smell like something that's been dead
Since the dinosaurs shat you out.
Maria Victoria...





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Milo! said...
Mar. 13, 2010 at 7:08 am
I really love this. I really like how everyone can relate to this. I hope you keep writing, because this is great. You should check out some of my stuff. I think you would like it.
 
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