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Violet Feb 2018
“To The Women in My Life”

Take ownership of every inch of you
Each individual strand of hair
On your head
That glint in your eyes
Your sharp, dangerous smile
The suffocating curve
Of your hips
Your slender legs
That’s all you

The declarations exploding out of your mouth
Like fireworks
Popping, popping, popping
Beautifully disrupting silence
Beautifully making your presence known
Staining everything it touches
In hot, vibrant color
That’s all you
That all belongs to you

Remember that
Tattoo it on your heart
Because people will try
To wipe it away
Like eraser shavings taking up space
You are not temporary
You are eternally beautiful
Let my smile remind you
My natural laugh
My loose shoulders
You are phenomenal
A strong, powerful woman
You’ll leave your print in the stars



“Step Up”

“...I think it has to begin with women who have the creativity in their hearts and souls — who want to be musicians, who want to be engineers, who want to be producers, who want to be part of the industry on the executive level — to step up.”

Why are women being told to “step up?”
Do you not see the tears in each word
The blood in each lyric
The fire in every performance
You cannot wash it all away
Or remold it like clay
Women do not need to step up
Neil Portnow
You should step down
Aaron LaLux Feb 2017
00:00 Valentines Day

It’s midnight,
and I’m,
alone again,
trying to fill the time,
with these words I write,

watched the Grammy’s last night,
Twenty One Pilots,
standing there in their underwear,
reminding us that we can be,
anything,

Hollywood,
my home,
so many people,
at the Grammy’s,
I’ve met and befriended,

but sometimes,
the enthusiasm seems so gone,
it feels like we’re living,
after the credits when the film has ended,

like,

what’s happened to us,
where have we gone,
and why,
do we still feel,
so totally alone,

supposed to be gone by the morning,
flight to Cabo to pick up my truck,
just flew in from Australia,
found letters from the IRS in my PO Box,
welcome home boy now it’s time to pay your tax,

met my accountant tonight,
gave him all the paperwork,
we chatted for a minute in his Range Rover,
I made a joke about having a black accountant,
he reminded me of the Basquiat photo I’d given him,

Basquiat in the 80’s,
looking awkward as fck,
holding a FroZade cup in his hand,
a crooked No Parking sign standing by,
and the ‘ol Twin Towers towering in the hazed background,

another genius gone before his time,
sometimes the art we create is ahead of us,
sometimes we have to watch our success from the Heavens,
1 2 3 4 5 6 7,
8 9 10 11,
12,

It’s midnight,
and I’m,
alone again,
trying to fill the time,
with these words I write,

watched the Grammy’s last night,
Twenty One Pilots,
standing there in their underwear,
reminding us that we can be,
anything…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

— The End —