TINSEL

 God is dead and so is Santa Claus and Winnie the Pooh.
Marilyn Monroe was a figment of a drunk frat boy's imagination.
There never was a Hollywood and the California you heard about
in all those Beach Boys songs is a postcard with all four corners chewed off.
The current bid is 65 cents at eBay.
It's cute it's quaint how people plan their funerals.
I'll be buried in white with red lipstick (make it M.A.C. Ruby Woo)
because I'm a goddamn candy cane.
The playlist will include 
"I'm a Believer"
"Chinese Rock"
"Killer Queen"
"Kawliga"
"Dazed and Confused"

Damn. She was so complex.
All these fuckers who barely tried
nibbling on cornbread and some kind
of dollar store cake. 
I hope the filling is sweeter than I ever was.

Bitch, I'll be gone.
I already am.
Quite.

I specialize in smoke signals and dumb riddles
that go exactly nowhere.
Like all those songs on "Odelay" and "Daydream Nation"
but nowhere near as cool.
No no no baby doll.
Not nearly that fucking cool.