Born naked but the rest is drag

But your face just needs a paper bag

Trees
BY J O Y C E K I L M E R

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

Hey, girls, my name's Alaska

I got a tiny little question to ask ya
Who's that bitch that's on the top?
Oh, wait, that's me! Hey, Porkchop!
You're born naked, the rest is drag
But your face just needs a paper bag
Gimme a challenge and I'll crush you all
Changin' the game like my name's RuPaul
Line 'em up, front to back
I'm sendin' bitches home like a heart attack
Mess with me and you'll wind up in a casket
I'm Dorothy, you're Toto, get in the basket!
I'll read you down beneath the ground
Could you hold my purse while I snatch the crown?
Legacy, remember my name
'Cause you're gonna see me hangin' in the hall of fame!