IPOS & FRANTIC // HOES ❋ Emily Present

I enter into the purple mood,
I can already tell everybody in here is talking shit.

I came here in a zip car limo-cruise, The tag line for the service was: “LOVE & SOME DRUGS”

Everybody at the party has on sea shelled stilettos,
like this is Studio 54 meets the Coney Island Mermaid Parade and they’re walking on pink island mush as they ding olive lined cocktails up against each other.

I just keep thinking about the Last Days of Disco, the movie, not the era.

I sit down on a round white puffy floor pillow, and blow air bubbles into the wind.
My Topanga Canyon toe polish matches the full carpeted mess

below,
all pink everything.

Ginny, likes pink, she always has I don’t like Ginny.

Somebody in the corner over my left shoulder is saying: “Tumblr’s for porn. Always has been.”

I’m safer next to the crudité, for sure. I feel naked in my glamour.
This summer the tan-pale-petite-curvy brand of look is very in
Kanye and Lagerfeld are collaborating on a
Jackie O in el barrio inspired line,
which will be taken in all the right & wrong ways,
though, I have to be careful people don’t start appropriating my aesthetic too much.

The blue-eyed bitch looks at me like I’m a candy corpse and I don’t blame her, I’ve lost 20 pounds in 8 weeks.

My skin is practically rice paper.

She’s the one that wanted to go for the cougar look, not me.

Oh Ginny,
ever since college,
wasting her trident breath on those old turn style moves.

She now lives with a less of a man, more of a corporation,
which is why she’s out here in a Trump triplex paying for things only in Bitcoin, like that’s still relevant.

IPOS & FRANTIC HOES
was the name of my painting named after Ginny.
It debuted at my breakout gallery show: KIMCHEE & LITHIUM
Ginny and I stopped being friends after that show.
She couldn’t handle my “arty” success, as she called it.

She entered the group panic that is celebrity apprentice knock off friendships and trips to rich Suburban malls.

I started making foam strawberry cheese cake out of jars and calling it brand-shaming
I also started screenshotting my victories on the dark web for fun.

What’s it all for? And for whom?
Lindsay Lohan circa 2007? The Kardashians? Jeff Koons? Miami in the 80s? Ex Mayor Bloomberg? A cashmere fainting couch? Prince?

Maybe, Prince.

Reminded of IPOS & FRANTIC HOES
I just want to open a quaint bodega next to gentrification and get on with my life.

I see Ginny shed a turquoise tear as she watches me walk out her pearl encrusted door.