Transvestite Don –

Transvestite Don, on black patent stilts, twisting his hips, testing his stilettos, on-line steal at $54.99
Don the Chauffeur, his allegorical bread and butter, androgynous foreign business persons from airports to offices
Don’s dream, ‘Ladies Day’ at the Track
Catwalk Weekends 1 – Soccer Hooliganism 0
Born Again Don!
Saturdays for the greater good of Tennessee F.C., it went up against Sunday TV’s ‘The Fashion Show’, five years ago, passed a forty yard glitter ball screamer onto his head, – ‘Booomph!’ – Don, into the top right corner
Tall-boy in the bedroom filled with ‘Jock’
Don’s hangars hung loose after the clear-out, his new ‘Collection’ micro-spaced for crease-free perfect release
A Chauffeurs garb, to that bottom drawer, to the Kingdom of Porn, now redistributed to a stroke victim Grandpa for one last thrill
Club Tropez’s position, steeply down a side street stairwell, gave any ‘Don’ with Veet-free legs a difficult descent; Tobogganers in Tights
Eventually, all was forgotten through the imbibe, coloured drinks with stripy straws
Don shifted limbs across its plastic dance floor until the licencing Board’s Grim Reaper shit on the record decks
Horses have four legs, Don two, with heavy amateur soccer calves, women have beautiful pins
Today, Don’s Limo’s shine made the Sun blush, and six real ladies, with cloth-head architecture, coloured body wrapping and high angled soles, made Don weep
The Track wasn’t Las Vegas, its separation of classes and the horses running around everywhere proved it
His HRT was throbbing, Don needed to eat oestrogen, quickly for another chance, his complicated underwear sitting folded in the Limo’s glove compartment, this was it, dream move, he pulled it off, Driver Don to Don in a Dress
He was refused entry to the Ladies Enclosure
Girls found him weeping, face down into a steering wheel
They were late home for their domestic abuse

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