In Drag

“Some people’s angels are just devils in drag.”

She says to me as she applied eyeliner liberally

To the skin beneath her lower lashes

“Suffocating evil in a plastic bag…

dressed in their best with their pocket of ashes.”

She fasten her chains with black finger-tips

And catches a tongue stud between her red lips

“And in the end, they go to the prom

The queens and the kings and all their little mice

They’ve got it all, but they don’t throw the dice.

They’ve got fucking arch-angel RuPaul.”

She picks up her rosary, her robes and her wine

Laces her boots

And leaves for the ball