J D Vance has such smoky, smoldering eyes, doesn’t he?
The way those baby blues coruscate, as if from the darkness.
Are those shadows natural? No, it’s eyeliner, of course, but on
a 40-year-old man it’s called guyliner.

Any teenage girl will tell you the kohl pencil is the gateway makeup tool for self-definition, if not exactly self-improvement.

As an ex-teenage girl, I can picture the hours senator Vance spent,
hunched over his laptop watching make-up tutorials on TikTok or
Instagram, analyzing eyeliner techniques in overwhelming detail.

TikTok clips are today’s replacement for the Teen Vogue magazine
product pages of back-in-the-day. I recall watching these videos,
at 14 and devolving into a fog of envy and inadequacy.

JD began wearing guyliner in 2016, so he probably watched those
at age 33 and by now, he’s certain to have upped his game by having them permanently, cosmetically tattooed on.

Of course, Trump himself has never been one to shy away from makeup.
His weird, orange, glazed-ham look comes from his preferred spray-on concealer, ‘Bronx Colors,’ a cruelty-free makeup manufacturer in Switzerland.

If this all sounds too judgy, I’d like to say, “JD, I’ve felt your clearly adolescent girl pain, and I get your desire to represent a softer and more romantic republican political aesthetic.”

And let’s not forget that Kamala’s been known to wear makeup herself.

Here are before and after JD Vance eyeliner pics - you decide: daweb.us/jdVance.png
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Songs for this:
It's All Over Now, Baby Blue by Falco
Gonna Get Along without you now by She and Him

Guardian Angel,

let me rest here awhile on the sandy shore
and gaze out at the sea

everyone  dies
and some people never live

and Beloved One
hold me and love me in your heart

allow my weary head to rest
on your shoulder

wrap your wings around my heart

Angel,
let me linger here
in the salty air of time

Angel,
my Guardian Angel,
misguided Angel,

who will plead for me
when I ve gone to bone?

and my Angel s voice whispers,

"you re one big pain in my ***."

My alarm clock breaks
The numbers freeze forever
Time stops for us both.

The first glance

Unsteady, unsure

One beautiful smile

One thoughtful flutter

Godspeed you butterfly!

She comes to my shoulder

And pins a rose on me

She leaves a note

She lifts the net

But wants no words to her song

She is from November

And I am from snow

We stand together

And everything is new

i've not written for a week.
i need to visualize, feed
on an image, grow out of
immense distance, slumber
on the rocks.
i need to paint a flower
in all its frailty, gather
the skies on the horizon.
until the bright lilies
have drowned me in their
white linens i will not feel whole.
gathering, gathering the world,
its moments stormy rooks.

how i missed those
people who planted
little seeds in my heart.