Vanity lights.
Production sets.
Heat on high.
Dim lit.
Fame is all in your head.

Truffles in the air.
Wine stained carpets.
Knife over the bed.
Lipstick bruises.
The low numbers aren't fair.

A throbbing migraine or two.
Smoke envelopes the halls.
Hushhh, play another lullaby.
Of course not all dreams come true.
There'll always be a new one, more than you.

wine n dine
they say
faux sophistication
how pretty

oh culture, they say
but there's a price to pay
for the theatre show
endorse inclusion yet divide into rows

the stage is free
art they say
entertain me in exchange for pay

******* culture
deeper entrenched
day by day

isn't it peculiar?
we are politically correct
yet flawed in every way
shhhhh, that's not what you are supposed to say

Felt good to be warm. Felt good to find
somewhere quiet. Felt good to be ankle
deep in the river, to be knee deep in the
river. Felt good to get your hair wet. Felt
good to let the mud on your legs dry in the
sun. Felt good to dig your hands through to
cool earth. Felt good to close your eyes. Felt
good when he touched you just as a breeze
went hushhh through the trees. Smelled like
rain, and God, that felt good. It felt good.