Ode to Intoxicated Downtown Girls
Downtown girls, poured into glass windows
Swaying on our laps, leaving home far
Glued to the stars, as we fly the cars
High up in the clouds, no key in the ignition
No need for plane tickets, no wings on our doors
Fire red kisses from the rainbow-trailing whores,
Laughs lay quietly over layers of crickets
Noise under our voices, we try not to listen
Downtown girls wearing filter-ash heels
Chalk coated tongues from the star shaped pills
Aiming for the hills, headed for the north
Skies like the Fourth, fog in the rear.
Party for the tears, party for the fears,
Party for the zombies with the concrete in their ears
Who’ve all turned into stone, null to the bone
Ode to the women, the women with the leggings,
The lust filled bras, and the thrill seeking lashes
Downtown girls, but Venus is the mission
UFO lights, hover over their stages
Strippers rip the doors from the rooms and the cages
Yellow wallpaper, fallen through the ages
We fall to their legs, but never say we fell
We lure their legs open but their arms cannot be held
Hands cannot be held; love cannot be felt, so we never say we fell
Too fast, for the slow, love making pace
Snapshots in our minds of addiction on their face
Money is a race; fame is a blessing
Demons keep testing but their minds have erased
So hail to the Based, they fall to their knees
Hail to the stars, the clouds, and the trees
Hell to the fathers with the dead beaten seeds
Hell to the daughters with a hundred dirty deeds
Ode to their knees, scarred from the crawls
Feining for a fix ‘til the doctors make the call
5 in the morning, hands between their thighs,
Shivering from the cold as they whisper their goodbyes.
The trip back home, always dreaded in their eyes
Downtown girls, halos on their heads
Wings on their backs, tails between their legs
*they/their=downtown girls
*we=narrator
Downtown girls, poured into glass windows
Swaying on our laps, leaving home far
Glued to the stars, as we fly the cars
High up in the clouds, no key in the ignition
No need for plane tickets, no wings on our doors
Fire red kisses from the rainbow-trailing whores,
Laughs lay quietly over layers of crickets
Noise under our voices, we try not to listen
Downtown girls wearing filter-ash heels
Chalk coated tongues from the star shaped pills
Aiming for the hills, headed for the north
Skies like the Fourth, fog in the rear.
Party for the tears, party for the fears,
Party for the zombies with the concrete in their ears
Who’ve all turned into stone, null to the bone
Ode to the women, the women with the leggings,
The lust filled bras, and the thrill seeking lashes
Downtown girls, but Venus is the mission
UFO lights, hover over their stages
Strippers rip the doors from the rooms and the cages
Yellow wallpaper, fallen through the ages
We fall to their legs, but never say we fell
We lure their legs open but their arms cannot be held
Hands cannot be held; love cannot be felt, so we never say we fell
Too fast, for the slow, love making pace
Snapshots in our minds of addiction on their face
Money is a race; fame is a blessing
Demons keep testing but their minds have erased
So hail to the Based, they fall to their knees
Hail to the stars, the clouds, and the trees
Hell to the fathers with the dead beaten seeds
Hell to the daughters with a hundred dirty deeds
Ode to their knees, scarred from the crawls
Feining for a fix ‘til the doctors make the call
5 in the morning, hands between their thighs,
Shivering from the cold as they whisper their goodbyes.
The trip back home, always dreaded in their eyes
Downtown girls, halos on their heads
Wings on their backs, tails between their legs
*they/their=downtown girls
*we=narrator
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