Hollywooed
by Sheila Lanham
by Sheila Lanham
i grab your 6: waist
and sift pink sand into your navel
then i twirl you around like a baton
until it is the perfect time of day
the grains of sand gather together
on your belly and make a perfect Chanel "C"--
then i chew off your split ends
spitting them into wooly willy's face
and i lick your tan off
yummm, it tastes like cocoa
and there you lie--
your blonde bistro bustiere
bubbling up and boiling over
hiking your hilly nilly up just so high
where i spray Eau de Lickme between your legs
and then crack some polished nuts
by clacking your sweet jaws together
and holding your hand in public--
you look back at me in a quizzical fashion
like there was never a Dumbo to begin with
and i was mistaken to wear wool here, ever-
so, i submit to the manicured tribal wishes
and i peel my face off with apricot kitty tongue strips
pulling my hair, blouse, and skirt up
just a little higher than the sunset-
i tape my titties up with bubblicious
licking my lips like a true ho on acid
and i put on a bleached smile for you
which costs more than a months rent
and we are chauffeured around
with springs in our palms
and with each handshake we stun the stars
12/16/00
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