The name "Disco Bitches" started as an insult for a contestant on So You Think You Can Dance. She was quite literally a disco-ing bitch. Hilary, my sister, and I thought that me just randomly blurting "what a disco bitch!" at the television was hilarious, and this poem was born. Though I'm not sure if the poem will make any sense to anybody but the two of us, I have to say that I really love it.
Hilary really did find pie in her bra once. That bit is not a lie.
Disco Bitches
Just the kind of girls to marry
a man from Montréal for the gorgeous chocolaty
accent
having moved to Québec in a failed
attempt at growing up
The kind of girls to dash
about metropolitan cities,
laptops and scripts tucked under arms bearing
suede elbow patches, only to realize that
there is … pie… in their bras
Girls who get incredible
hair cuts and then pull those strands into pony tails
because of so and so’s
neck and so and so’s difficult jaw line
and sheer utter morning lazy grumpiness
sparing time for an attempt at reviving over cold cereal
Who are up themselves disco bitches because
they scrawl words in sentences in ways nobody
else really does, and
who just really really love the
French
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