Howitzer glare and spitfire blade
wooed by Dresden serenades
Her soundtrack now a bombing raid
Bored of vaudeville
God was six days sober
On the night that she was born
To the glistening star of a bible class
An icon now in religious porn
She was Alice through the glory-hole
An ejaculate misconception
Disney-esque, the high priestess
Of greed and deepest dark deception
All best-to-bury whims
For Miss Libertina Grimm
She, that little red riding crop
Brer Werewolf at her stocking tops
Beneath the tightened leather strop
Of the basque of the houndervilles
At the stroke of midnight come
She polished verse and hearses
In a poisonous pen dipped in omen
To her surgeon full of general curses
In the hand of morgue redeemers
Though the dead always pleased her more
Squatting in their coffins
Flirting curtsies to the thirteenth floor
Tip your hats
For sweet Libertina Grimm
Fantasy and candy stores
Snow white and the seven straws
Smoke and mirrors on all fours