Twisted Trite Tripe
It was the ex lax icing on a crap cupcake.
It was the quicksilver lining on the funnel cloud.
It was the tranquilizer before the storm of the century.
It was the frack fluid beneath the breaking blazing bridge.
It was the dead horse refusing to drink the kool aid.
It was the goth momma kicking the cradle and ruling the global delusion.
It was the crocodile’s tears over dumped mammal formula.
It was dynamite and diamonds breaking the will to boner and calling names to kill the soul.
It was the tupperware of annelids opened by the brat whose father thought a boy was a boy.
It was Rose walking with her Thorn at sunrise while Poison crooned Marty Robbins mournfully.
And still, she smiled through her hidden tears, pushed up trying to cover excruciating pain, and tried to live a full life, fighting for just another day in paradise…
