Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Portraiture, Venus and The Fly




What portions of me be
Assignable – and then ...
Emily Dickinson



I slapped a fly
with my sling back.

Chic girl living
in that kind of shoe,
his wingspan
diaphanous, small
angiogram
of my veins infused

with cocktail gossip
glitter and glue
to paste on a smile,
an impression.

Whatever makes
your confidence stick,
steal a scene
and everyone's attention.

I caught the insect
by surprise. Silenced
his buzz.

I was beginning
to believe that rumor --
how I loved
only for looks

both him,
my Total Gym husband,
and myself.

But what if it's real,
this premise, an "if girl"
living in a flimsy shoe?

Then I will search barefoot
for somthing rare-
a praying mantis

revealed on leaves
shadowed by the sun.
________________________________

This poem is both whimsy and reflection. It is based on those "it girls", ones that make all the headlines, become objects of social envy, gossip and praise. Yet, it leaves us, normal bystanders, to wonder. How does such attention and glamor affect their self-image and worth? Do they really begin to take themselves that seriously on such a surface-based level? And how does it affect their ability to love and judge someone, based on what? The fly , an annoying creature, can also be a pertinent messenger, a catalyst.

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