Oh, now she is a rich girl!
Rockin’ those Dolce & Gabbana shades
in the California summer to disguise
the imperfections behind her slutty hazel gaze.
Chanel Number 5 is the scent that remains;
it stalks as I get drunk off cheap liquor store wine and
down pills in this suffocating, sun-deprived apartment.
She parades down Rodeo Drive with a knock-off
Gucci bag and a paparazzi mob all around.
I swear, telling by all these fuckin’ piranhas with cameras,
you would think she was someone important.
I could never get her off that damned Blackberry!
She wore it like a third earring.
And now they have these Bluetooth thingies where
you don’t even have to hold the phone anymore—
Like she needs incentive to be any lazier.
Oh, she’s such a rich girl now!
Rockin’ that California girl swagger;
UGGS and blue jeans in the summertime,
flip flops and daisy dukes in the wintertime.
She’s become a slave to superficial items,
caught up in the hype of Hollywood,
forgetting how life was before all the fame and fortune.
© 2012 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as CURIOSITY
Excerpt from Page 33 of End of the Road
Published by Lulu.com and Caution Tape Poetry