Party

Party

The hostess sells her paintings, thirty bills
Apiece, to pay divorce attorney’s fees;
Sammy swallows two hundred fifty pills
And drinks green tea for immortality,

And Nancy Narcissist preens in front of
Seven antique mirrors while the Vid Man
Records her every gesture in self-love
To make a monument for her mad fans.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals
Stakeout across the town,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs
And this whole party’s goin’ down.

Psycho Sal checks the bathroom medicines,
Hot Pants the Supermodel checks for lint
On Stocktrader Tom’s sleeve; he drinks and grins
At Sallie’s dirty jokes (she’s worth a mint)

As she plays the latest music, knows the words
To every track and turns her back to Jack,
Who winks at her across a couch and bores
His editor, who suffers heart attacks.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals
Stakeout across the town,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs
And this whole party’s goin’ down.

The Scientologist concocts a tale
To keep her on the tabloid covers; strange
Professor Vaughn has cut his penis off,
Tells students that the President’s deranged.

A kitchen pair play spoons to backwoods tunes,
Tuxedo Tom has tickets for the show,
Front-row seats for an aging pop tycoon
Who sells him his fresh drugs from Mexico.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals
Stakeout across the town,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs
And this whole party’s goin’ down.

The rapper spills a drink and mops it up
With Cover Girl’s fur coat, her belt, her lace;
The late-night host slips her a mickey, licks
Her ear and cheek, and keeps a poker face.

The rising starlet bats her eyelashes
At the producer who has lost his wife–
A plane crash in the Andes–she lunges fast
To him as he bemocks the right to life.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals
Stakeout across the town,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs
And this whole party’s goin’ down.

She checks her cell and pops a pill, she stops
To reapply her lipstick and her rouge
While Greenwich Village painter-man talks shop
About his triptych featured in the Louvre.

The gender studies major wants her X
To be a Y, so she has joined a cult
Where chromosomes are curdled by swan necks
In Psilocybin syrup for results.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals
Stakeout across the town,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs
And this whole party’s goin’ down.

The upstairs bedrooms brew with body heat,
And no one talks about the campaign man
Who lured two girls downstairs with bags of sweets
And stories how he fought the Ku Klux Klan.

Behind the banister the nightgown kids
Sneak peeks at smoke and drinks and tailored clothes
‘Til Mom shoos them upstairs to watch their vids
Of princesses who would not decompose.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals
Stakeout across the town,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs
And this whole party’s goin’ down.

~Day Williams

Many people who bash Trump

D’Souza

Many people who bash Trump as a buffoon couldn’t make a million bucks—let alone a BILLION—& couldn’t get elected dogcatcher, let alone POTUS