don't feed me dat bull bacon
I ain't buying dat
eating her curds and way crap
either
Little Miss Muffet
she was a gangsta sista'
that ballsy dame
didn't run away
she stormed out of da crib
madder than short changed
crack whore
and got her glock
dat spider
damn near shit all over
his own web
when she coolly raised its nose
and shot at his head
missing him
only cause she planned to
gave three big ghetto rats
a heart attack though
dat same night in da kitchen
now da whole neighborhood
chants respectfully
way to go Ms. Fuck it!
as she steps off her stoop
to walk to da corner store
amongst the celebratory cheers
ah now dats more like it
she says with that gleam in
her one gold tooth......
(Sept 17, 2015 1246pm)
There are time periods
When I am not here
And miss things.
I like your nursery rhyme.
KS
Up in here
Up in here
Dealing with
Up in here
60's Revamp
Little Miss Muffet
sat on a tuffet
eating her curds and whey
along came a spider
and sat right besid her
and said, "What's in the bowl bitch?"
.
This poem reminds me of Frankie & Johnnie. (Sam Cooke version - there are others) Fabulous take on an old standard - "crib" great word for "pad" - nice ~A~
Your words made me smile..........
I was second guessing myself after I posted this thinking maybe I went too far with the cursing and the stereotyping but I loved empowering Miss Muffet that was what motivated me cleart to the heart of the matter. It is a bit more crass and graphic than i usually write but as you know we write down whatever comes, that just goes with the territory only this time my territory was coming out from my idea of ghetto....... Thanks again Stella. My day is going to be awesome now. love ya sis, M.