Hey, Pom Pom girl, swingy
Red and blue, shake it
Shake it, cheer so loud
Until the acid bleeds your throat

Green eyes glaze and glisten
Smiling through the bile
You pretty little thing
For everyone to see, but
If they only knew, and could
See the scars beneath

The make-up, the crafted image
They wouldn't be jealous
Now would they Blondie
Surely not of you?

You're all grown now
If you believe a calendar
Hiding in a house, in plain
Sight, an icon for everything nice
And all that spice, so spice that nice

But tell me, what the
Hell happened to you?
A funny thing, frequent
Thoughts of suicide
A whispered middle-aged craze
Still hip, staying in style

You're still pretty, my silly girl
Even with your head
Crammed in the toilet bowl

When did it stop being easy to cheer?
As you count the vomit chunks
Regurgitate love, empty
Your soiled soul.

Feeling better now?
No, I didn't think you would
How about a pill? You know
That you can't drink
Too many calories to consume
Remember? Pissing in the sink

I've been around, seen
Everything you've done
The things that you can't handle
I saw you scrub and scrub.

Wipe at the dingy stains
From his dirty love, that stench
Perfume won't hide.

You had to find a way
To survive the attentions
Of an unconvicted felon
That uncircumcised bastard
Who brought dinner home

You do it still you know
Those little tricks and games
Recount the vomit chunks
one-two-three-four-five

Hurry, hurry, hurry
That filthy secret's visible
Flush, flush, flush!!!!!!

Tidily out of sight, out of mind
Your filth is in the sewer
A safe-deposit box
For unwanted truths

So you can facade the day


© Janet Caldwell 2002-2010