no (D) it's the truth...sorry to be the one to tell you...

so how do you.........................never mind

first...thank you

yes i loved blue velvet and eraserhead...i marvel at the way he see things...

she flaunts her vices

and tries too hard, to be

different.



sees herself a

poet.

-truth is, she is dreadfully

mediocre. never the less,

she is a friend.



thinks she has to be dark and mysterious

and miserable;

when she gets bored,

she has sex

with men who

don’t love her,

strangers

and sometimes

women,

just to be different.



tonight we sit in the dark

in her families’ guest house

just off Mulholland,

getting drunk.

she talks of how she despises

her parents

affluence- again.



all the while,

her store bought L. A. body

is draped in

Versace

and the keys to her

Porsche

rest comfortably

in the six hundred dollar

Fendi

cocktail purse,

she’s tossed on the floor.



I open another beer,

as she snorts another line

off of the signed

Dali lithograph she

had me remove from the wall.

it’s not the good Dali,

it’s the later, pedestrian, diluted

Dali;

you know,

the stuff he churned out

just for the money, towards the end.

(kind of fitting really)



I snicker at the way they are

so proud of it yet, appropriately,

even if by accident,

it hangs at the end of the hall.



ten minutes ago

she asked if I wanted a

blow job,

I wonder what this says

about my

company.



I may take her up on her offer though,

I’m feeling

a bit disillusioned

myself.





kc09

wow, awesome write and better picture, I thought you were a chick! lol
Very perceptive poem, cheers