My Blue Muse poetry
P.J.Taylor  

Channeling Dorothy Parker

Give me hell
with its cramped rooms
teeming with vicious sluts
and pedestrian slobs,
the suckling momma’s boys,
and wicked perverts wrenching
their necks for a peek
up heaven's skirt.

Because if we’re doomed
to collect in urns of ashy dust—
I'd rather stand in it
up to my ankles,
than have to beam all day
for the saints, or bow so low
I'd never catch a glimpse
of the Almighty, anyway,
but only of those louts
He damned below.

 

First published in the anthology Nepotism

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