Mr. Moneybags Will Have His Fickle Comeuppance in Los Angeles

It’s so relieving
To know that you’re leaving
As soon as you get paid
It’s so relaxing
To hear that you’re asking
Wherever you get your way
It’s so soothing
To know that you’ll sue me
This is starting to sound the same…

~*~

You were smoking bones

As if they were cigarettes

Miss the tale called home

Affiliated with a sickness

That ate through cuckolds

Made fools out of cocottes

Making poker dealers fold

And hat in hands to fought

Where were you when she

Died last night? Asking for

Extra straws from the sea

To suck up its open floors

.

Ambitious was your hobby

Buying fortune from clowns

Earning leprechaun money

Wearing a replicated frown

With apparels of gold velvet

Canes of candy in platinum

Fevers of e.coli and scarlet

Eye contacts tinted iridium

Where were you when she

Died last night? A roosting,

O’er open fireplaces calmly

Whilst she was screaming

.

For help, with blood flumes

Cascading down her nicest

Sunday church dress, lunes

Devouring into their behests

Waiting for your latest calls

When broken windowpanes

And her tears started to fall

Pilferers feast, no shame in

It; where were you when she

Died last night? In bed, with

A hired trophy wife, unguilty

Living a millionaire’s dream

.

Now you’re a failing destitute

Case, has-been in showbiz on

Industry, hailed dropout brute

With a buck to his appellation

Living in a cardboard box flat

Selling signatures no one will

Take off your hands, you’re but

An extra in life’s silent film reel

So, just where were you when she

Died last night? Wishing that you’re

Dead, junkie OD’d, madness addicting

Suffer as she sits in Heaven laughing.

~*~

She’ll come back as fire
To burn all the liars
And leave a blanket of ash on the ground
I miss the comfort in being sad…

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