“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label perfection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label perfection. Show all posts
Sunday, December 31, 2017
Social security
Unless you were born
a boy
with silky chestnut hair
shaped like a perfect bowl of soft wound thread
nested as in a kitten ball
atop an angelic head dappled with
a sole magic dimple under the high arched
cheekbone amidst
perfectly placed and sized features,
jawlines of a steed,
eyes of witches hazel,
long indulgent black lashes,
long limber legs, strong steel shoulders
broad aspirations
long ago,
No-
you will not be chosen
as the one that was
a man for all ages
a perfect fit,
the right breed,
hand(y)some or skillful.
The rest shall be
Employees.
Painting by Benjamin Haydon [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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