Curse of the Polka Dot Dress
A short polka dot dress
doesn't belong here.
Amidst the predators
headless beer
dream benders
vulva vampires
cheap shot dead enders
so willing to blow hellfire
into innocent embers.
A dash of blackout.
Sprinkled into your naïve drink.
Sticky dreams dying
in a puddle of sunrise piss.
Daddy always warned you about the curse
of a short polka dot dress.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
