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Too much Sex and the City

May 2, 2011

Visions of ribbons and off-white frilly lace
And high-heeled bones bent moving at a mindless pace
Through city streets.

Colorful meals on large, clean, white plates
With shiny silverware handled by grinning, lipsticked dates,
And spilling out of their mouths are colors and paint that gather together and form on their plate

An image

Of how superficial magazine covers can run four lives
And men choose to fuck fiction instead of their wives.
Women hail taxi cabs with fingernails painted like pictures
While fixtures of perfection are seared like seals on the mission statements of their lives —
Solemnly swearing to hide behind the  cosmopolitan ideal of flawlessness
In body, in face, in profession, in dress.

And what will it all mean when their high-heels break?
When they realize the glam, the leather — was all fake?
And what will it all matter at the end of the day?
With the restaurant receipts, the heavy make-up gone astray?
Will the one extra drink they had at the bar
(As they gazed at ageless men and talked freely of stars)
Make the lives they lead that are so full of fluff
(And condoms and sheets and meaningless stuff)
Become something a passerby could look at and say
He’d remember fondly as he went on his way?

When they take off their heels and come down from the clouds,
Will they ever find the courage to listen to the sound of their voice when vodka no longer molests their breath?
And think of something more complicated than the shirt barely hiding their breasts?

When the make up wears off and the hair starts to fray
And they find they have nothing of substance to say
Will they look in the mirror and still recognize
The brightness and beauty that can shine from their mind when there’s no make up or pretense to hide behind?

But still, these shiny women with hair like waterfall tresses
Raise glasses to themselves and what they see as successes.

The only thing that changes them is alcohol.
Their world is so silly.
Their world is so small.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. May 3, 2011 10:08 am

    Well said. Style over substance has never been my cup of tea. Or vodka, for that mater.

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