Bill Rushing's ode to Paris (not the city), apparently inspired by my most recent anti-idiotic blonde rant... Nicely done, sir.
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Paris, O Paris
Your face swims before me
in a haze of ketchup and cholesterol
Your eyes, like the eyes of a zombie
I always expect to see
under your twiglike, useless arm
A head, dangling
as befits a zombie
But it's Tinkerbelle, the carnivore rat
who most of that burger's for
Paris, O Paris
Amateur auteur of porn
Our holy princess of anorexic sex
and worthless culture
and mindless everything
Your very existence
torments my every moment
It is like my face is on fire
and the world is putting it out
with a sharpened screwdriver
now that's hot