MISS CAPOTE: MIDWEST MODERNÉ
Overheard in a cowboy bar in Strong City, Kansas:
FIRST COWBOY: Hey, Dude!!! How’s it hangin’, huh?
SECOND COWBOY: Pretty shitty, man. Been feelin’
kinda blue. Like I had to fuckin jack off this morning
just to get my goddamn heart started….
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Kansas be a piece of cake, honey—
most male butchy cowboys be EASY
I mean guyz who strut around in—
pointy-toed high-heeled cowboy boots?
______________________
What could be more nelly than that, girl—
and those size-queen Stetson sombreros?
Gimme a fuckin break, sweetheart—
Nelly Cowboy Couture be pretty kitschy
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Those ever so tight & revealing bluejeans—
showing off such lovely bowlegged thighs?
Who dreamed up such an outré Style—
surely some Kansas Andy Warhol, honey?
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Maybe Miss Grant Wood poor closet thing—
painting that tawdry “American Gothic” couple?
Edward Hopper with her fag noir “Nighthawks”—
gettin close to Hemingway's “The Killers”?
___________________
That stark, lonely Greenwich Village diner—
in the middle of some vast dark predatory night
A scene right outta IN COLD BLOOD—
Miss Capote in a gay country cowboy bar
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Gettin to know that grim gay Gothic reality—
known as the Red State Republithug façade
Play that lonely forlorn honky-tonk jukebox—
Hank Williams’ YOUR CHEATIN HEART, baby
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Dance with those lonely cowboy rodeo stars—
your head on their nice big wide shoulders
Ending up in some ratty old NO TELL MOTEL—
drinkin whiskey and smokin Mexican dope
_________________
Cheap black velvet Elvis the Pelvis portraits—
hangin down from the cockroach walls
Wakin up bleary-eyed in an empty bed—
with a fuckin Killer Holcomb Hangover
________________
Nothin like maudlin Motel Moderné, baby—
gettin in the mood for MURDER IN COLD BLOOD
Especially if you’re a bored Big Apple writer—
pimping for the hoity-toity NEW YORKER
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