Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Drearie Dearie

—for Mildred Pierce

“DING DONG!!!” goes the doorbell—
“It’s Drearie Dearie!” I exclaim

Every party needs one—
Especially on New Years Eve

So in Miss Thing swishes—
The poor drearie old thing

The party grows hushed—
And the lights grow dull

And there she is, my dear—
The dreariest dearie of them all

The champagne grows flat—
Losing all its bubbly fizzy

The music goes dead—
From Jazz to drearie Dirge

She looks around the room—
Sizing up all us Sisters

She’s in her usual—
Bette Davis Diva mood

“What a fucking dump!”—
She says with a smirk

Waving her cigarette—
In tight little circles

She doesn’t have time—
To read everybody’s beads

So she just says—
Fasten your seat-belts

It’s gonna be a bumpy—
Ride tonight, my dears

“Happy New Year!”—
Somebody dares to say

“What’s good about it?”—
Drearie Dearie replies

“2012 was a Drag—
A real Bummer, my dears”

We all look aghast—
Drearie Dearie just shrugs

We all nod solemnly—
Especially the Bull Dykes

They’re even drearier than—
Drearie Dearie most of the time

“People never really change”—
Drearie Dearie opines aloofly

“They just get worse”—
She says so very bitchily 

I gulp down my cocktail—
Choking on the fat olive

The cute Go-Go Boys—
Way above in their cages

Keep dancing madly—
Oblivious to the Panic

A gay Stampede—
Of Kitschy Queens

All heading for the—
Closest Club Exit 

Along with me and—
Just about everybody else

I simply can’t Stand—
Depressing Miss Drearie Dearie

Not for a second longer—
And neither can they!!!

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