Consuming Us

All beauty has been taken.

The natural is no longer allowed
to be as it is without filter.

The body is no longer a temple;
it’s a canvas on which we paint.

The soul is relegated to metaphor
and no longer allowed to spread
to the hearts of others.

The picture of a tranquil scene
0r a painting of a flock of geese
does not tell of human vanity;
oh, there might be beautiful pics
of women in yoga, mid-lotus,
but this is the worship and praise
of buying a smaller waist.

Primp and put on makeup,
and cover yourselves with the finest cloth.

The natural is no longer allowed.

The body is covered with ads;
your skin is the billboard and target,
and your mind is the space for their sales.

Dear men, you too shall primp,
moisturize, and soften,
and loosen at the knees:
your body is the next gold mine.

The male is under attack
by minions of corporations
that seek the next quarters growth;

The female is utterly chained
to ideas that most males do not believe;

She is beautiful regardless of me
or whatever I happen to believe,
but I grew up in an era
of television and magazines
that pitted her body
against the bottom line
and her prospective mate.

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