Staring at the hall of mannequin dreams
There’s a thought for all of those
Parts strewn across the hall,
Placed artistically on a gurney,
The doctor will take care of you
If he’s not too drunk at the time
There’s a gurney on fire in the ICU
There’s boy with too much eyeliner begging to bleed
In the mental health ward
Feed that kid more morphine while you’re in there.
Rape him too, while you’re at it.
Let’s make some money off of making people miserable
Make them pay a ridiculous amount of money
So they can get molested while under an anesthetic
For a surgery that’s unnecessary
Make them pay for ever bite of ice cream.
life flight the mannequins to the specialist
the frozen desert down by the equator should be a good place for them
make sure they get lots of chanel lip gloss
for those chapped lips of theirs.
glancing down at the bloodstained face
of another upstanding priest and school teacher
down at the equatorial iceland
that stupid coke-addicted model tramped on him
before she found out that he was the one who raped her
so long beforehand.
the mannequins lie down for a little rest
trying to catch some sun
making the bubblegum of their eyeshadows melt
off into the sand castles their lovers had built
america loves disaster,
so why am i not the center of attention?