This is the song of the handsome people
bleached white bones
dark red flesh
with wrinkles deep and old
as the desert.

Their arrows having disembarked
have faded into the
molten clay of the
mean-spirited earth.

Their heritage having been
habitually crushed with cause
for hatred has been
enveloped in peace and pride
and is cloaked in
dry hides.

Feathered in cold trails of tears
to match trails of aging
they have covered up their
misfortunes with song
and smoke.

Their rainbow carried by the wind
to some far-off pasture
rides on the backs of deer
and dead bison

to be consumed in smoke
and black flame.

Tell the ******* truth, Gwen Stefani, bleach blonde vamp.
Questions stack up in the recesses of my mind,
A renovation’s trash pile of drywall dust.
You changed me, but there are things to clean up.

Did you just take a break to remake your image
For swarms of chubby white suburban pre-teens
Swarming in packs at the middle school dance?
Are those the only bees you could catch in your hive?

How did you meld and mold the Harajuku girls
To fit in the camera’s crosshairs or to walk
the thin line of a New York fashion week runway?
I must admit I still have my bottle of L.A.M.B.

Was the woman who screeched she was Just a Girl
Just floundering for fame? Does this happen to
Every mid-level artist? Will my inkwell turn
To the blood of an easy fan base too?

I wanted you to be my mother, but you picked
my platinum model sister as your favorite.
But will I still become you, even though I know
You’re false? Your press coverage can’t reveal the future.

Black tar lies spew from US magazine covers
Eyes dark, I gobble them up in violent shudders.

Oh, man you are so wise, you’re always right;
You always speak the truth and what is right.

You taught me your culture, I have to blend,
I’m scared but tried to live for what is right.

You sang the oldest songs I hate to hear,
My ears are wanting bad for what is right.

You pulled me and asked me to dance with you,
You knew that music’s off, it is not right.

You held me close to you, I have no chance,
To see, to hear, to speak for what is right…

The eyes will see what the heart desires
if the mind wills it so. It inspires;
his rage, her innocence.
And up the stairs he'll race; still to her hearts pace,
and frozen in time.
For what she wanted was not that with which
she gave away. She gave way as his prey.

And numbly he took his heart's whole take;
and led on her mind. The fake;
his strength, her frailty.
And through the oceans he would travel, to this her body's grace,
and lost in waves.
For the path he took was not how she envisioned
its ending. Their pendulum on a string.

She never peacefully passes on, though he does fairly quickly,
for she let him; without a care;
his victory, her despair.
And quietly walking she leaves, the grave site still in view,
and time will quake.
For even if she holds her head still high, her death
she will not strive. Whereas he, was never really alive.

His strength he imposed, left marks on her
head and heart. In vain;'
his gain, her pain.
And the lesser she'd open her eyes, the faster time passes,
and over its been.
For now she lets herself go, keeping herself closed
unto life. The insincerity clung to her strife.

Paved thoughts
They lay
In naivity
Youth
Born into homogeny
Told
"Different is beautiful"
But taught
To fall in line
With the swaying ways
Society's norms form
Pin-up billboard smiles
Flash magazine swagger
On surgeon made bodies
Guide retinas of wide eyed
Youth
To mirrors
With disgust
"Different is beautiful"
We'll say
Yielding our whitened smiles
"Different is beautiful"