like Joe Jackson is my daddy II

some places it appears I am the arc of desire
with tongues dragging the ground and panting
too much of me is not enough like the stuff veneers are made of
and nice equals “she must be a dime piece”
thick like black girls long before a fat rumped it girl

wealthy with the reality of doing nothing but presentation
coupling with gents straight from the Congo
where in certain areas everybody notices… had to lead with my
brain first…next recognized was my beauty and then the bunda
mines a real one…plump since twelve skinny everywhere else
in several arenas I am the main event … sexy hefer he keep sniffing around
as if he might just promise himself til it aches
cause I went for mine as if Joe Jackson was running behind me
with an extension cord … wearing stripes like he my daddy

mean while in other neighborhoods every eyebrow stubbornly raises

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