The Vengeful Villain of the Classy Strips
Black sky – yellow bolt – CRACK!
Block the moon! POW!
There were never any questions
About who the villains were when I
Was your super hero toon girl.
And who was in your power posse??
Me! That’s who!
One night after drinking too much
Pink boy pony glass sugar wine,
You left the punches dangling,
Like a participle,
Like a spinning penis,
Like a stay-tuned-next-week,
Like a hole in the script,
Like an uncolored Sunday comic.
You already lost the gist of your
Five star law suit with the Times.
And then you lost me.
I made demands:
A seventeen point checklist.
So I popped the corn – POP! and
Slushed trails home in the snow. SQUISH!!!
But I did like being your ingenue –
“The one with the good tits,” you said.
I miss the son I never knew.
He was slated to be my special guest star.
“We must wait for his voice to change,” you said.
But I knew, when laundry is
Prioritized over coffee,
One becomes a weekly TV rerun,
A strip mall stripper,
A blue-haired cartoon Pulitzer runner-up.
Yes, there were rumblings of a movie back then,
A book deal of sorts,
Always discussions.
What ever happened to
Sarah Silverman anyway?
Horror Sleaze Trash 