Killer in Drag

“Not another hit job?”—Mona asks
Yes, I tell her—Glenda’s got a job to do
“Will it take long?”—my teen angel asks
You might get bored—here all alone
Mona pouts—slips out of bed
Stepping into her panties—silently
Adjusting her brassiere—moodily
Pulling down a nylon slip—then
Into a sexy satin—cocktail dress

It’s time for me—to butch it up
When I shift from lover—to killer
Something happens—the plot thickens…
Ed Wood takes it—very seriously
Cross-dressing—his cinematic vision
Filming his way—into pulp fiction
How serious am I—about killer drag?
My own moody—auteur filmography?
Becoming a killer—the camera’s eye?

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