The ballad of a girl named Sterile Gauze

just another funny poem. Enjoy.... or not.

It’s a very fine champagne drug
but that’s without the addiction factor.
She’s a country cowpoke gangster thug,
like hittin’ three-wheel motion on a tractor.

So she left for the city and got a job,
now she works at the five-and-dime.
One day she up and married a slob
the kind that lives to rock a rhyme.

They started a band called Curious George,
he did the mixing, she played the banjo.
They wrote songs about Geordi La Forge,
and why Superman needed ammo.

One day she died of an overdose,
’cause her champagne drug made her ill.
She said at her eulogy as a ghost,
"If drugs don’t kill you, day jobs will!"

They all came to worship Miss Sterile Gauze,
she grew even bigger than The Beatles.
They put her in place of Santa Claus
she’ll give you gats and give you fresh needles.

Now her soul shall live on forevermore,
’cause she found truth when she rapped her banjo.
Her music will give you wings to soar,
and sow some seeds of thought for you to grow.


---

[Call-and-Response Dance Break]

Here we go now, all together!
Throw your hands in the air, if you’re a true player!

Bow to your partner, do-si-do,
tap that a*s, pimp that ho.
Turn around and cut a rug,
be a hardcore gangster thug.

Yeehaw, y’all!

Bow to your partner, turn to the right,
the way I drop dem beats is tight!
Circle round, stomp a mat,
cap your a*s with my gat!

Kickin’ it countryside!

Pass on through, turn and stop,
a killa makes that 50 drop!
Touch and quarter, come on home,
gang that cream, flick a bone.

G’s up "HO-DOWN!

Author's Note

Ignore the spelling please. I have a kind of dyslexia know as disgraphia. I've struggled with it my whole life, and I'm only interested in comments about the piece on it's merits of creativity and stile.
My portfolio can be found at asadowning.com