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Patsy Manson poem
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[color=var(--page_title_color)]Poem by JT Colfax[/color]

[color=var(--body_typography-color)]from The Colfax Diaries
 
PATSY MANSON I
Patsy Manson chewing through a log like a beaver …
Patsy Manson standing outside Katharine Hepburn’s window making notes on her
HEADSHAKING TECHNIQUE …
Patsy Manson giggling in a mirror …
Patsy Manson goes to Six Flags and appears to talk to someone, who isn’t really there
(on the TEA CUP ride)
… PATSY MANSON.
Patsy Manson, in all matters takes a deep breath and asks herself:
“What would LIZA MINNELLI do?” …
Patsy Manson grandiosely whipping out her credit card and waiting for sales clerk recognition …
Patsy Manson ingratiating herself with Lizzie Borden in hell
… PATSY MANSON.
Patsy Manson at the McDonalds (on Peachtree) in Atlanta LOUDLY orders suchlike:
“Oh, just give me a f***in Happy Meal” …
Patsy Manson running for the Senate against Hillary Rodham Clinton …
Patsy Manson chasing a naked BURKE around the mansion, pushing a sequined dress at him
while screaming,
“you have to be America’s People’s Princess Now”
… PATSY MANSON.
Patsy Manson having a cup of urine thrown in her face at Heaven’s Gate …
Patsy Manson chased endlessly at night, round a racetrack by a mechanical rabbit that looks like
JBR’s ghost
(flowing nightgown, outstretched arms, malevolent eyes) …
Patsy Manson reminding Burke that she can only buy him a candy factory
“if nobody tattles”
… PATSY MANSON.
Patsy Manson, instead of wearing an AIDS RIBBON, decides it would be cute to sport some
little boy’s penis on her lapel …
Patsy Manson, in Spain; she misunderstands the Running of the Bulls festival, whips out a
maglight and starts thunkin the cows to death …
Patsy Manson pounding LIZ TAYLOR’s door at 4:00 am, bottle of wine in hand, shouting up at
the bedroom window, “BITCH, I bet there’s plenty uh yung peepul that don’t know who duh hell
you are compared to ME”
… PATSY MANSON.
In the Charlevoix house there were recipe cards for such items as “Irish Stew,” “German
Chocolate Cake,” and “Oysters Rockefeller,” but for some strange reason Patsy has crossed out
the adjectives and used a Sharpie to change the cards to read: “Frustration Stew,” “German
Frustration Cake” and “Oysters Frustration” … John is SICK and TIRED of Patsy’s non-stop
daydreaming about editing Madonna out of EVITA and dubbing herself in …
PATSY MANSON.
Patsy Manson and her husband have themselves buried with only their heads sticking out of the
ground at Atlanta’s ungodly TECHWOOD HOUSING PROJECTS; a hollowed elephant’s leg
full of golf clubs stands near them
… PATSY MANSON.
Patsy Manson, working feverishly in her basement, wood chips flying everywhere because, like a beaver, she is gnawing her own casket … PATSY MANSON.
 
 
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JT Colfax is a writer an artist whose past projects have been chronicled in the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Washington Post, the New York Post, and various and sundry other publications.  He currently resides in Denver.


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