Drearie Dearie

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
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So in Miss Thing swishes—
The poor drearie old thing

The party grows hushed—
And the lights grow dull
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And there she is, my dear—
The dreariest dearie of them all

The champagne grows flat—
Losing all its bubbly fizzy
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The music goes dead—
From Jazz to drearie Dirge

She looks around the room—
Sizing up all us Sisters
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She’s in her usual—
Bette Davis Diva mood

“What a fucking dump!”—
She says with a smirk
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Waving her cigarette—
In tight little circles

She doesn’t have time—
To read everybody’s beads
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So she just says—
Fasten your seat-belts

It’s gonna be a bumpy—
Ride tonight, my dears
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“Happy New Year!”—
Somebody dares to say

“What’s good about it?”—
Drearie Dearie replies
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“2012 was a Drag—
A real Bummer, my dears”

We all look aghast—
Drearie Dearie just shrugs
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We all nod solemnly—
Especially the Bull Dykes

They’re even drearier than—
Drearie Dearie most of the time
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“People never really change”—
Drearie Dearie opines aloofly

“They just get worse”—
She says so very bitchily 
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I gulp down my cocktail—
Choking on the fat olive

The cute Go-Go Boys—
Way above in their cages
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Keep dancing madly—
Oblivious to the Panic

A gay Stampede—
Of Kitschy Queens
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All heading for the—
Closest Club Exit 

Along with me and—
Just about everybody else
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I simply can’t Stand—
Depressing Miss Drearie Dearie

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