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There’s a party at the gallery tonight

So Veronica is taking off her bra

See her tits right through her t-shirt, it’s so tight

She doesn’t latch her overalls,

her makeup’s like a baby doll

She’s fucking up her lipstick

getting higher than a kite

 

And Bailey’s got his vintage cowboy threads

His moleskin notebook clutched within his fist

And he’s coaxing some dumb slacktivist to bed

And as he leans in for a kiss,

He make’s sure that there’s witnesses

If your romance isn’t witnessed,

Then you may as well be dead

 

And Georgie’s coming over with his stash

Man, he’s gonna kiss the girls and make ‘em cry

He’s got everything you need to itch the scratch

And some other shit you’ll wanna try

to get yourself electrified

He’ll get you Pentacostal

if you’re down to drop the cash

 

At the gallery tonight

You’ll go to live the dream

Where all the brightest socialites 

All go to see and to been seen

 

So I’m walking down 14th street killing time

Past the yogis and siddhartha’s in the Square

And I’m watching all the play-by-plays online

They’re getting all their pictures shared

For posing in their underwear, 

And praying they’re the muse

of some director’s new design

 

So I’m hoping out to Bushwick on the L

‘Cause someone said I’ve got to play the game

And I’ve got a few ideas I’m trying to sell

But everybody with a name
is only there to buy cocaine 

And find a trendy background
for a picture of themselves

 

But when I arrive, the place is a parade

To my surprise there’s something being missed

There weren’t any pictures in the frames

The exhibition don’t exist, it’s only exhibitionists, 

And you can be a work of art
unless you’re on display

 

At the gallery tonight

You’ll go to live the dream

Where all the brightest socialites 

All go to see and to been seen

 

But by 3 a.m. Veronica was lost

No proper paparazzi ever showed

“You lookin’ here?” she asked me with a scoff

I dropped my eyes and told her no

She raised her hands up to my throat

And shoved me the wall crying 

“Why the fuck not?”

©Calvin Rezen. All rights reserved.

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