I watched that star on the super bowl show,
twisting & twirling & stomping her feet,
talking about her DNA like she
designed it herself. I’m glad there’s hot sauce
in her bag, thrilled she’s calling her ladies
to get information. Sad she calls them
tricks, hate she drowns on top that police car
at the end. Red lobster’s not so special,
no cornbread, no collard greens, just coleslaw
and cheese biscuits. But that box is chocked full
of teeny beeny bean pies – more than just
a dreamer – best revenge IS your paper –
never cared much for helicopter rides,
conspiracy theories, Givenchy dresses.