Home -- Blog -- EastWesterly Review -- Take2 -- Martin Fan Bureau -- Fonts a Go-Go -- Games -- Film Project -- Villagers -- Graveyard

Take2

Issue 18
Issue 17
Issue 16
Issue 15
Issue 14
Issue 13
Issue 12
Issue 11
Issue 10
Issue 9
Issue 8
Issue 7
Issue 6
Issue 5
Issue 4
Issue 3
Issue 2
Issue 1

FAQ

Links

help support us -- shop through this Amazon link!



This work is licensed
under a Creative Commons
Attribution-NonCommercial
4.0 International License.

Postmodern Village
est. 1999
e-mail * terms * privacy

Well, I rap.
by Francine DuBois

and you woulda thought I told Mom
I was a drug dealer or a murderer,
cuz they're all the same thing in Mom's eyes.
see, Mom, they don't make women like Ann-Margaret anymore,
and while I wish I could just wear tights and a sweater
while shaking my ass onstage, I gotta wear the gold bra
and the diamond-studded thong and sing about shoving
men in all my orifaces. Mom, I'm doing it for you,
so you can have all the things I never had growin' up:
fame, fortune, lawsuits, fifteen minutes on MTV
when I bring the cameras in your hair salon,
and a comfortable nursing home when it's time.
it ain't so bad, right, Ma? i bought you a Cadillac . . .

Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version -- Inspiration
Previous Poem -- Next Poem -- Table of Contents