Lately Miss Texas, olive oil under an eyeball sun. Run,
tan and glistening, from the backstage frantic
to your hot spot in the spotlight and sister,
start your walk.
Thank bikini bottom tape. Thank push up top, large breasts
swelling like beautiful injuries. The mind is small
talk and bluebonnets. Your concrete abs cut like
Ginsu knives, and you could strut if you wished.
Later, the interview but now West Texas heat under
familiar lights. Everyone’s envy as palpable
as a pizza slice. Thank protein shakes and celery
for your invisible thighs. Don’t ask why.
You know all the answers by heart.
All hail most holy and nothing
shrieks abundance like the buffet
at the Circus Circus hotel Oh heed all hail
have you ever seen its equal
17 kinds of Jell-O and salads with nary
a vegetable and our hands heavy
with chips our winnings Oh order the wine
players drink for free and freedom fine
is a cornucopia bountiful pink and resplendent
like the walls inside the belly of the whale
like the walls inside the casino all hail
the buffet at the circus and God
there’s a circus at the Circus Circus
oh trapeze oh horse rider oh lonely one
with a buck fifty and change
ask me to change oh charge me saint
say the word and I’ll flagellate regurgitate
ovulate I’ll ululate in the middle of the God
damned Circus Circus buffet olé.