Cruised into work one morning and out of the blue found this zinger of a poem, "Bad Influence Girl," by Janet Rogerson, posted on social media. Set aside all morning e-mails, relishing her wild new poems. Faux-twerking the Mardis Gras in New Orleans, this bit of satire was propelled to life by the sass and sauce of Janet's 1st stanza. Look her up on Google+, amigos. She's a happy hurricane slicing up the doldrums...
A bad influence girl
is sampling a department store. She takes my hand,
leads me into traffic just as it starts to breathe again.
She runs, pulling me through five lanes
throwing her head back laughing
like she’s just turned sausages to gold
and is wearing a string of them around her neck.....
FAT TUESDAY SONG
(for Mardis Gras)
Just what the planet needs right now...
The free world sorely needs --
Legions more -- Bad Influence Girls
And dancing global warming feeds...
Hot trance, a hive of hand-swept curls
No blushes on their knees, the girls stand
Tall, tossing gilded sausage garlands
Off imperial balconies to boot
The carnal cool parade, Le Carnaval de Joie
That presses past, a steady grinding
Tide like sheep and goats in a stockyard chute,
Sleepy-eyed and grinning, neatly
Groomed for the abattoir.
One dire "Badder the Better" clone
Girl perched above, furls her tie-died T shirt high,
Serene and zaftig, swept off in some Samba zone
She flings with blase' joy more jewelry of meat,
Flesh trapped and shredded from this world,
Headed for the next. (Now pause, repeat.)
Semi-precious? Rare as Mardis Gras beads,
New necklaces of afterbirth about
To be reborn as pearls are
Raining down to meet the needs
Of blank-eyed shuffling reveler boys
And girls embracing the longish Night...
Oh here they come, inurred to joys,
Yo Mama here they come
Unblessed and numb, insentient to Light.
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© "Bad Influence Girl" 1st verse / Copyright Janet Rogerson.
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