Dear Mrs. Kardashian

Dear Kim Kardashian,
Or should I call you Mrs. West? Well, here we are, questions
Rack my mind like stripper poles and bad decisions, I wonder...
Who really hit it first? Because Ray J says the sex was
Bananas but Nick Cannon says it was oranges, what's really
Going on in your fruit basket? Now, Queen K, I heard you
Were face down and ass up, now was that on your own bed or
Did your momager get you a Tempurpedic? Mrs. West, I
Heard your booty so fat, is that to compensate for the
Tiny pebble of destitute matter in your head you
Try your best to pass off as a brain but fail miserably at doing
So? Mama West, why did you name your baby North,
You could have at least done her a favor and named her
Something better, like Beyonce, I'm just saying.
President Kardashian, could you please tell your friend
Mrs. Carter that her child sounds like deadly
Foliage, again, just a recommendation, Mrs. West.
Back to your love life Señora, you married a white man for
72 days, was that the rebel in you, were you trying
Something new, it seems you are addicted to black men,
You went and married black Jesus. Speaking of
Mr. West, did you really have sex on that motorcycle,
Let the fans blow air through your baby hairs as you walked
Straight to Heaven with Yeezus himself? Do you ever
Cry at night Dr. Kardashian? Because I feel like you do, I mean
Seriously, have you seen how bad your nails looked on last
Week's show, you are way too rich to look that bad,
Pastor Kardashian, you need Yeezus. But, Mrs. Kardashian-West,
I want to know, with you being famous for no reason,
Are you happy with yourself?

~ Kai Alexander Means