Starlight
A smoke-filled room,
With a sleazy man on a chair,
And Sister’s giving him ministrations,
His hands are in her hair.
There’s a flickering bulb,
That threatens to go out,
Like the moon turning a blind eye
To Sister’s daring escape.
She had boarded a bus to a town
Where degenerates go to become notorious,
And where the scum of our populace
Comes together to entertain the crowds.
She has stars piercing her ears,
In the form of glitzy earrings,
That somehow glint under the gasping lightbulb,
And shine with her deepest passion.
Hollywood, baby.
Hollywood, baby.
No comments:
Post a Comment