We go to parties, cameras pop.
I look really good, he feel on top.
I wear Alaia short and tight-
He says it helps his appetite.
On opening nights, its never boring.
While he cuts deals, I stand adoring.
He calls me "Babe," I call him "Winner"
I'm always on his knee at dinner.
The flunkies bow, the waiters fawn-
They think I'm something big in porn.
He's buying Burbank--ain't life great?
(I love his choice of real estate.)
He told my agent I'll go far.
I'm thinking "Spielberg." Me- "the star!"
Super cute read, a collection of funny poems from Vanity Fair fashion editor Michael Roberts.