Ode
to a Bloody Mary
Bloody Mary,
We bad girls love to say your name
Bloody
Mary! Bloody Mary! Bloody Mary!
It’s like we’re being
allowed
to talk shit about the Virgin
without rightfully
having to burn
in that perpetual lake of fire.
Lake of red and spicy
in my glass—
complemented by a nice, long
celery stalk;
we bad girls like to suck on that stalk
before sliding it
inside
your red, wet jacket.
You’re no Friday
night girl like us bad girls.
You’re a Sunday morning lady, Bloody
Mary
even though when good
girls take their daughters off to church
you just sit there on the counter
looking luscious.
