I threw a party.
All the saints were there
And Quazimodo too.
It was a happening time.
THEY
Weren’t invited
Gad-damned party crashers.
Nietzsche and Kafka come waltzin’ in like they own the place,
Thought I could see that all the rustlin’ robes were making them
a bit nervous.
They plopped right down.
Insinuation.
So being the ever smiling hostess that I am
And feeling a wee bit devilish,
I gave them some wine
And then more.
“Take yer shoes off,” I said.
I tried to get Hildegard of Bingen to give them both a blow
But she wasn’t bitin’.
Can’t say that I blame her.
Kafka tried to fuck my cat.
Then he started puking in my azalea.
Nietzsche kept whining about his limp dick.
He thinks too much.