Lena and the sacrificial Lamby

Only the best mothers do
what it is that you would not
you see protecting you from harm
might mean they harm a lot
for when the day is done
and all her resources gone
you will end up returned
to where you truly belong.
All the money in the world
a shelter a better home
a dog is just a toy you see
not a child born
but Lena Dunham flips the script
a different recollection
of abusive events
before and after snap shot tense
she claims trainers, lessons and money spent,
but four years of training-
never a muzzle?
no, this loving mother
thought it too much trouble
to give her little Lamby
anymore attention
so she did what we now must
give a little mention
back to where he came from
that is where she sent him
just a special chance
at a postnatal abortion.


Lena is no hypocrite!
just a liar, molester, and ignorant twit!
Lost the weight now lying about it-
prior to this she just forced empowerment.
Lena just lied to herself-
thought she was happy
with her private hell-
bet Jack’s mother didn’t yell
a good Jewish mother
just asked him, pray tell;
when will you find a pretty girl to marry.

Always beautiful Lena

Here we go again-
hypocrisy in skin!
Lost the weight through starving
now claiming you’re not flaunting,
hamming it for cameras,
pretending you aren’t trying-
maintaining that you’re charming?
You certainly aren’t a hottie
a mentor, or survivor,
honey you’re just a liar
a rich girl with no fire,
just a vapid, tacky, yuppie
with too much money.
Lena Dunham is so lucky!
Never knowing realities short comings,
playing at delusional
to get out of something-
honey I’ve lived with delusions
you know a lot of nothing.
Scream fat, get thin, pretend you aren’t playing it-
keep saving the poor and women
even the ones
who don’t give

The vaginas monologue

Here we are saving face
handling the purity of Grace
who under went the “good rape”
honored by a sister with good taste-
The Little Coochie Snorcher That Could-Roman Polanski’s hood-
changing a three to six doesn’t mean you should-
underneath the sheets where Emma Watson sleeps
letting women speak
pretending they are free.
Here we are saving Grace and
all the females being raped
by the leaders of our movement
female love it’s just improvement.
What’s the difference in a torment
just because it’s female forward
not a penis so it’s okay
just another sexual healing

Milo’s brother

Think about it if you will
my name is James
and I’ve a story to tell
I hope that you hear
I want you to know
I’m not sure if your listening, but
I need to let this go.
Think about it if you will
I’m twelve years old
tired and sleepy
safe in my home.
My name is James and I’m twelve years old
my brother is Milo
our story unfolds.
Think about it if you will
my brothers Milo
he invites me to his bed
we’re safe in our home.
He tucks me in tightly
I fall to sleep
to the sound of his feeling
under the sheets,
hot is his breathing
hands not on me-
he’s touching himself
Think about it if you will
this happened every night
he’d invite me to his bed
his masturbation my lullaby
started at a young age
continued to my teens
but my parents and my therapist knew,
said nothing’s unnatural about me laying in his bed-
think about it this way
What if this poems about Lena Dunham instead?

Don’t read the news

There’s a simple thing I see
persevered by ignorant society.
Truth it comes-not readily.
The news forgot what it’s suppose to be-ethics be damned quite hastily.

When the reasonable man in the room
is a Brit with a Madonna feud!
Piers Morgan speaking the truth
rational and calm to boot?

Fuck, America what are we going to do?
Let the rich stir the pot?
Have the rest of us forgot?
That the rich just want to get richer.

Care about you?
Oh, what do they do?
Besides protect child molesters.

Roman Polanski still fucking walks free-
but that’s for another installment.

Woody Allen’s our man here,
let’s make this damn clear-
he’s married to a victim.
He masterly conditioned
a child to a woman
through decades of abusive behaviors.
Yet Kristen Stewart will say, to Ronan’s dismay, shits been said about everybody.
Persecuted for his art
at least we got off
on the premise that we know nobody.

Still hope is real Lena Dunham has feels!
and admonishes his pedophilic behaviors.
Yet, don’t forget she made quite the check
off biting his rhymes on her own.
Touching herself while her sisters knocked out?
Let’s not pretend that’s normal-
Ooh yes I know
Grace said it’s not so
and thus we ignore the admission
because it’s just fine for a teen to unwind next to a ‘sleeping’ victim.

But America what do I know?

I’m sure Lena has a good soul
she’s just a fucked up millennial
the voice of a proud generation
who sports pro-ana tips for the nations!
Baby food to stave off starvation
this girls got the proper education-
who wants an abortion vacation
playing delusional to escape debt
but she’ll educate the neediest
white savior for the greediest.

But hey at least we still got Halsey
no, seriously, that girls amazin’
dropped a hundred k no baitin’-
so insanely real-no hatred.
A real artist is rare these days
even if the whole world stands
in praise
no one seems to have any sense anyway.

The truth doesn’t mean shit to the crowd
even with evidence abound
we’re controlled by fear
and the sound
of the rich saving the poor from

Chained to the Benjamins


I am not your friend
just another fan to send
straight to a follow, straight to a like-
heart that picture-you want my next album-

Keep talking, talking, talking
repetition is the key
keep singing all those lyrics
that supposedly speak to me.
Keep talking, talking, talking
your morals come undone
sexy, flirty, fun
an open invite to be the one

One in a million you don’t know our names-
taking to politics to up your trashy game
a shameless plea-
love me, love me, love me
while you can’t even love yourself.
Preaching to a crowd-eating baby food out loud- pro ana all around.
Molest your sister write it down
get another book deal now.

Keep talking, talking, talking
repetition is the key
keep penning all your verses
a prose of lies-truth on its knees.
Keep talking, talking, talking
your morals come undone
sexy, flirty, fun
an open invite to succumb

Your siren song, siren song.
You got it wrong, you got it wrong.
Play along, play along,
million reasons to come undone
shake it off, shake it off, your just an artist off the cuff.
A fame monster, a fame whore, your lady gaga in a pink hat playing poor. I grew up without the upper east side, never knowing the difference between a diamond and a dive.

Keep singing, keep singing,
killing me softly
music is dead
and the truth is haunting.
Keep singing, keep singing,
the rich run this bitch
I’ll keep counting pennies while you keep marching for the pics.

Sexy, flirty, fun-empowerment for twits.