Once upon a Monday eve-O, while I pondered what to TiVo
Stumbled I across a show on Logo I could not ignore.
There I saw a talented gay, plucked from the hard streets of L.A.
While I know this may sound cliché, she was looking fierce, for sure.
All the ladies wondered what to call her and she said, for sure:
"Call me Raven, nothing more."
Ah, the Raven's razor-sharp wit, skillful way with a makeup kit
Made her a competitor that all of us at home adore.
Sometimes dressed in chicken feathers, always the number-one Heather,
This Patti LuPone in leather showed the other girls the door.
Asked if she would ki-ki when she showed the other girls the door:
Quoth the Raven, "Never, whore."
Raven's walk, it burned down Paris--but she won't be RuPaul's heiress.
She won't get the money, but we don't believe that she'll be poor.
Sipping her Açaí Berri, Raven's truly "leg and dairy."
She's Samantha, not a Carrie--sorry for the metaphor.
Now the show has ended, shall I write another metaphor?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!
Mister Ricky Marson honored each fallen queen of RuPaul's Drag Race with a poem. He also wrote a version where Raven won.
