If I were in drag, I’d be Tammy Faye Bakker.
I want to walk up on the stage
while a hymn interrupts the dance music.
Hell if I could tell you
one off the top of my head.
I clutch so many tissues
that I leave a trail behind me.
With mascara streaming down my face,
I break through the crowd screaming
Jim, Jim, how could you?
One twink turns to another and asks
Does that bitch think he’s Dolly Parton?
An older man will mutter nearby
Kids remember nothing,
kicking back another martini
as I turn away, the lights turn red,
and Tammy Faye snaps her fingers
in a zigzag to drums thumping
The Beautiful People by Marilyn Manson,
showing the backside of a woman
who won’t take shit anymore.
Justin Holliday is a lecturer and poet. His work has appeared in Lunch Review, Bloodbond, Queen Mob's Teahouse, Vanilla Sex, and elsewhere.