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| michael n. thompson |  | 1. DEVIL'S LOUNGE The devil's lounge Is a Frank Booth From Blue Velvet Kind of place Where drifters And other dead men Drink the devil's cola During daylight hours So their rented rooms Won't seem as ugly In the darkness An aging dancing girl, Sits perched on a barstool Desperate for approval From the worn and weathered faces That surround her And though the years Have slurred her beauty, She still twists to melancholy songs Until her lips are stained With promiscuity And old refugees From less-than-glory days Of barbed-wire fences And penitentiary walls Get drunk on Jameson's While arguing over A crone on the rocks Who reeks of age and regret 2. WHITE NOISE Miles of Malibu Barbies Get seduced by the neon And are unable to see Beyond sun-stroked boulevards That cake the Hollywood goldmine Since they're searching for stardust In a town called affliction From the top of Mulholland, The city of Sodom Smolders to the point of ruin And the women Who seem like cartoon characters Take pills for fading beauty Autumn's short on colored leaves, But long on Santa Ana winds For the whiskey-soaked refugees With cobalt colored hearts These casting couch victims Go home with anyone who asks Or who say that they have a script For them to read For such a beauty-obsessed place, The fiction falling From mouths of these plastic pretenders Looks ugly sometimes And it just comes across As white noise | |
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