Young, rich and tasteless.

Francoise thinks it rich to do a line of coke

Off the passenger seat of the limousine

Who knows whose arse has graced it

But that's just Francoise, always high on slumming it

Adrienne, his fiancé, she's the same

Laughs as she burns cigarette holes

In her Collette Dinnigan dress

Which she bought today but has decided

Is SO yesterday, burp, giggle, pass the Moet

Kent is a cunt and everybody knows it

But fun to have around when he's pissed

Because he starts reciting Shakespeare

In the accent of a cockney gangster

His partner Giselle is fatiguing and that's being kind;

She's studying economics and is boring as bat shit sober

But whinnies like a pony when she's blind

The limousine carves toward the races

With the precision of a prosecutor's brief

Which would please Francoise's father no end

He being a QC and holder of tickets to the winners circle

They bypass the lines of plebs waiting at the gates

And track down daddy by a corporate marquis arseholed already

Much salutation and back-slapping and Moet lapping

As the geldings gallop by

Unespied amidst the talking and clapping

Kent goes for the canapés touted on trays by students

Doing hospitality because their parents aren't rich enough

To support them through University

He enjoys the perversity of dropping his finger food

And watching minions scrabble around cleaning up his mess

Yes, Kent is a cunt, but a few more glasses of champagne

And he'll be channeling Macbeth through Michael Caine

Giselle has collapsed on a chair nodding fatuously

To some twat bent on a betting system guaranteed to win

Adrienne is pole dancing around the lobster platter

But it doesn't matter because Francoise has daddy's ear

On a runner in the ninth, which he says is a sure thing

So they place lavish bets and cheer the race as won

Glasses charged, cheeks flushed red, willing the dumb animals on

The tip flags at the last but never fear more champagne is here

Francoise disappears to do a line off a dunny lid

Looks at himself in the mirror and thinks maybe I'm queer

But it's OK because daddy will pay for therapy

Besides he just snorted coke off a toilet bowel -

Who knows whose arse last sat here?

© shaun patrick green 2011