poems 2 rock your soul by Kim Kardashian

the head of the sisterhood of the kardashians:
people want to know what it’s like
to be me, known for my butt and my beauty.
why is kim k a superstar?
that’s what they want to know.  just-
ified curiosity, tho’ the question’s a bit bush

league.  used to drive reggie bush
nuts.  what’s a kardashian’s
pussy feel like, they’d shout, just
to break his concentration. like
a pro athlete, a borderline superstar,
would give a rat’s booty.

when I gave him the boot, he
took even more heat, did bush,
but he won a super bowl ring dating a superstar.
in your face, jess simpson: kardashians
deliver championships for their men, unlike
you.  lamar odom, khloe’s hubby, just

won with the lakers.  so it’s not just
me.  beauty is rings, and rings beauty.
the nets will win soon, too, as i now like
kris humphries.  meanwhile, reggie bush
carries the curse of the kardashians,
and will never again be a superstar.

but me, i’m the ultimate superstar.
i suppose it’s not really just,
as my show, keeping up with the kardashians,
is awful.  a reality show set in djibouti,
starring jenna and barbara bush,
would be more worthy of hitting the “like”

button on facebook (like
i would know; a superstar
like me doesn’t have an account.  reggie bush
does, but not timberlake or bieber, the two just-
ins.)  my addiction to veggie booty,
and other intimate secrets of kim kardashian’s,

like how i wax my bush, i get paid to tweet.  like
i said, this kardashian’s a bona fide superstar,
even if you just like me for my tasty booty