Frankenstein Crowned Miss South Dakota (REVISED)

Bruises galore, my crown is implanted into place.
My smile fakes itself amidst the grotesque putty
of crusty contusions and misshapen lumps.
This fiendish prank (that was my face)
has mutated into a gory game;
a multi-tiered charade of ruined cakery,
rancid frosting, mottled pigmentation.
Wobbly high heels jammed on skewed digits
(jellied pigs’ feet seeping from hacked decapitation).
Busting out of my evening gown, I’m the barnyard star
of this maggoty parade. I’m the tainted creamsicle unfrozen;
oozing all over your plate. Poisoning your meat & potatoes
with my scintillating slimy pate.

FREAKY BITCH stamped on my sash,
on my slit, on my slash-worthy flesh.
I am sent down the stage with a clusterfuck
--dead dahlias, belladonnas, spider mums.
I am dragged down the dirty alley with a chain
attached to the back of a pick-up truck.
I’m wearing my bathing suit and gelatinous feet.
I’m bleeding through the crotch as zirconium flies off
my tiara and then you want me to compete
in the talent display. You want to gawk
and squirm your hoggish trouser worm
as I blend my piecemeal heart into
a gruesome shimmy shimmy shake.





(title appropriated from a Headlines comedy segment on ‘The Tonight Show’)