And rings punched through my nose
And studs to decorate my rear,
And stars where my belly button goes.
My nipples too could use a lift,
They’re plain the way they are.
Maybe as a birthday gift –
I can live with a tiny scar.
Collagen to puff my lips.
Botox for my face.
Surgery for my sagging hips.
Scars heal without a trace.
I want to get some tattoos too
Of animals and flowers.
I think that that’s what I might do.
And signs for super powers.
My birthday sign – well, that’s two fish.
Just one upon each knee.
What more could anybody wish.
Apart from maybe three.
And swirly tatts upon my face
To make me look real tough.
I have some pictures I could trace.
Ten swirls should be enough.
And snakes tattooed upon each arm.
And swords upon my thighs.
I really want to cause alarm
And bulge out people’s eyes.
I may have all my teeth out
And sharp false ones instead.
They’ll look real frightening there’s no doubt.
Especially if they’re red
I want to frighten ladies.
Scare them so much they faint.
And terrify young babies.
I’ll use real blood not paint.
These days it seems they implant things
Which fit under your skin.
Like shoulder blades that look like wings
And studs that spell out SIN.
They implant horns into your head
Which fasten to your skull.
It’s really true I’ve heard it said.
Believe me, it’s no bull.
They make you look like you are mean
Evil and nasty too.
They are the coolest things I’ve seen.
Something I’ve got to do.
Maybe I’ll get my tongue cut
And look just like a snake.
And a tail that’s sewn on to my butt.
It would have to be a fake.
I probably couldn’t wag it
Or use it like its real.
But then I wonder how I’d sit.
I wonder how it would feel?
No! Instead I’ll just get lots of tatts.
Tattoos from head to toe
Of snakes and fish, spiders and rats
Yep that’s the way I’ll go.
They’ll put my face on TV
In books and mags as well.
They’ll see I’m a celebrity.
I’ll live in a posh hotel.
Yes, I’ll be rich and famous
With more cash than I can spend.
I’ll live a life luxurious
Until the very end.
And when I die they won’t bury me
Won’t put me in a grave
Because I’ll be a celebrity
So important my body they’ll save
To a taxidermist I’ll be sent
Cleaned up and lips all puffed
On show for museums, I’ll be lent
Because I’ll be thoroughly stuffed.
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***~~~***
7. Dress Code
I hate the way Mum makes me dress
When I go off to school.
Each day I just wear less and less
She makes me feel a fool.
My skirts are just so tiny
That everybody snickers.
And if I bend just slightly
Everyone can see my knickers.
The tee-shirts that she makes me wear
All have a silly slogan
Like – OK LET’S PLAY KISS OR DARE.
I feel like such a bogan
And bangles, earrings, sparkly shoes
With bows stuck in my hair.
I’m dressed in clothes I wouldn’t choose
But she doesn’t seem to care.
And multi-coloured stockings,
Bright red and blue and green.
Designed to be so shocking
The worst you’ve ever seen.
My belts are so tight fitting
I’m almost cut in two
Especially when I’m sitting
Makes me feel I need the loo.
She made me wear a G string!
She did! – My rotten Mum!
I went to music, tried to sing
It went right up my bum.
I’d like to have some different clothes
To fit in with the others
But Mum says, “That’s the way it goes,
And choice is left to mothers.”
Mum says I’ll be a celebrity
And so I dress unique.
I’ll have my own show on TV
Appearing every week
So she’ll decide what I will wear.
I’m dressed to get attention.
Now she wants me to dye my hair.
I’ll probably get detention.
And how can I play basketball
When I’m wearing huge high heels?
She says they make me slim and tall.
That’s not the way it feels.
Last week I wore a sequin covered tee-shirt with no bra
I’d change it on the way to school but she took me in the car.
So when I got to school I turned the tee-shirt inside out
The outside on the inside looked much better there’s no doubt.
But sequins they are hard and sharp and when I had to cough
The damn things cut into my skin and chopped my nipples off!
She plasters on my make-up,
And lipstick on so thick,
It’s a wonder I don’t spew up.
The thought makes me sick.
Legs shaved and a bikini wax
False nails upon my fingers
And pours on perfume to the max.
The stuff with smell that lingers.
And before I leave for school
She looks me up and down.
She tells me how I look ‘real cool’
But I look like a clown
With rainbow coloured pantyhose
With sparkly varnish on my toes
With diamond stud stuck through my nose.
Then, Mum asks me to strike a pose.
Then click and so the camera goes.
Another photo for her book
To show the world just how I look.
The millionth picture that she’s took.
One day in time just froze.
I wish my Dad would tell her.
Tell her to her face.
But he’s such a pleasant feller,
Won’t say I’m a disgrace.
I wish he’d once stand up for me,
Say I’m not a dress up toy.
Tell her plainly so she’ll see,
I’m an average teenage boy.
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