(with thanks to Lainey, who offhandedly inspired the title)
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* * * * * * *
Good God! Katy Perry in another latex dress:
at least she’s had the decency to dye her hair,
not just another disco wig. I’d be more impressed
if she learned to sing or write, though. Even “Just Dance,”
if you call that dancing, what pop tarts try to do.
You think I’d go clubbing like that? Oops, not a chance,
freaking pervert! You think I don’t know the score?
All your dressed-up, drugged-up, dancing willing wantons;
the boys all worse (gay guys worst of all)! What a bore,
what an awful, wretched life to lead. All I want
is sweet solitude. Telly and tea, fresh flowers
on the sill, Regency Romance in hand, steel cunt-
ring fondly flicked, petals slicking with need,
my bottom well-plugged, to gladden its greed.
