by on April 3, 2019 :: 0 comments

I hope you’re thirsty
it’s gonna to be a mess
my new mistake
red Pall Malls and
tosses her hair like
Elizabeth Taylor,
when it’s dirty
and crosses her stems
like flower crowns
clinging to porcelain.
I’m sure
is all going to end
very badly
but I’ve
made a drink
and buckled in.

Pretty girls
born in the 80s
carry the residue of
Molly Ringwald
and Siouxsie Sioux
without knowing who

It’s the flick of the wrist
resting on hips
dangling discount smokes
thrift store fake fur
strong second hand boots
clearance chocolate bunnies in the

Pretty girls
betray yourself your own crusty age
make you feel like a young man
even when you’re dickless
it’s reckless
it’s a shame

moon goggles
and kneepads
war paint stockpiled
clean slate from the last
terrible game
of the last dame

and It’s all a shame,
a fucking shame

editors note:

Train(wreck)spotting; always good TV. (This poem is included in Opalina’s new collection, Black Sparrow Dress, from Mad Swirl Press. You be glad to check this one out – get a copy here.) – mh clay

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