LIFE SONGS: THOSE MAD MERCEDES LADIES

 
 

Regal ladies

in Mercedes

cruising down

                               the Boulevard.

 

Sabled ladies

Fabled ladies

Unaware

                           that life is hard.

 

What’s behind them? They don’t care.

What’s ahead? Oh, They don’t dare

Engage the god of introspection

As they breeze right through the intersection, one hand on the wheel.

 

High-Tone ladies

Privileged ladies

On the road and

                               on the town.

 

Pretty ladies

Jewelled ladies

Not inclined

                               to turn around.

 

Turn a glance? Risk the dance?

Oh, no,no,NO.

They’re in the trance,

that shiny things induce

as the wheels of their SLX bump and crunch across your soul.

 

Graceful ladies

Envied ladies

never

                                  crossing any lines.

They just fail to see the signs

saying “Look up from your iphone”

“Please ignore your fucking ring tone”

 for the moment that it takes to cast your eyes on Something REAL.”

It’s all Fake News. Fake News. Fake News. (But that motor really purrs.)

 

Empty Ladies

Painted Ladies

Eyes that open,

                                   like a doll’s do.

Border crisis?

Threat of Isis?

LGB-what? Who can keep up?

Tempest in a teacup.

They see naught of what they ought to

And click shut when they are told to by the Man Who Has No Clothes.

       

THIS JUST IN:

Stop complaining, stop the swarming

Grab ‘em by the…Global Warming?

Oh that’s silly -- just not true

Do you have this scarf in blue?

And after all…who knows what “those people” do when we’re not looking.

They’re just lazy. We all know that…

Is that yogurt low or no fat?

They should all just get a JOB.

 

Perfect ladies

Cool-dressed Sadies

Draped in Her-mes,

                                     freshly waxed.

 

Gliding down the aisles of Saks

protected from surprise attacks

by their [considerable] savoir faire,

                      breathing atmosphere so rare

                                             Knife-perfected noses in the air.

And the gaping maw of self-attraction

Swallows all with satisfaction.

 

Suntanned ladies

Just-right ladies

Yes they know.

                                                           Yes, they know.

 

Why you don’t eat yellow snow.

And where it is that good girls go.

And why the truth is…Just. Not. So.

And aren’t they just the apple of our eye?

Shun the truth. Embrace the lie. And brace for impact.

 

Mad Mercedes ladies

Red-eyed Ladies

Cruising down

                                             the road from Hades.

             

Running with the top down.

From SoHo on through Mid-town.

Forcing all to drop down

And pay homage to their truth

and to gaze upon the horror of their desperate, freon-cold Madonna cool.

 

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