There is a lesbian biker bar
we dream up
for some act of heroism
to be preformed
by the mousey white girl,
Amy, who is there
only because she can't
say no or stand up for herself.
Her heorism leads her to late night, cable talk shows
and a morning after interview with Matt Lauer
and an affair with leggy Kristine
just because Ronda is lethal—
carries a bowie knife for the same reason as men.
But Amy doesn't get the book contract,
because her seven minutes of fame
leads her into a heroin problem
and the insanity of doing
visiting highschool cheerleaders
under the bleachers
long after the game is decided
and the road team has gone home.
There should be another book
about her recovery and jail-time
and how a sophomore, Julie, pines for Amy
every day, wants to carry Amy's baby
in her belly and she sees the Blessed Virgin
in Amy's skin under black lights.
But the public tired of it, even the tabloids
like Samoan tattoos on pro athletes,
Disney stories about Hallmark cards,
or Banshee Blues played in Memphis cemeteries.
About the author:
Kenneth P. Gurney recently learned his biography is biodegradable and is now afraid of getting it wet or leaving it outside in the elements. So the only thing his current level of fear and mistrust allows him to share is that he is very happy the regular season of Major League Baseball started up. Go Brewers!!! Go Cubbies!
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