O-O-O’Hara, you kissed off before I saw
Myself in Lacan’s mirror, before I took off
My angel wings. Why did you
Myself in Lacan’s mirror, before I took off
My angel wings. Why did you
Wait so long?
David Bowie, a screwed down hair-do—
Ziggy and those irksome spiders danced—
Bowie danced instead of you, Frank.
He danced those fly-blown beds, and
No one will believe you broke
The band, cut those lovely hands, cursed the night
And blessed the forlorn day, Frank.
No one wants to believe that shit.
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