notes
Mirror Revolution
narcissus saw his reflection in a pool and was destroyed in self-loving stupefaction.
today we see our our reflections in puddles of rotting murk and are corroded from the outside in.
we choke ourselves in a powdered haze of cosmetics
quack remedies, mattes, perfumes, foundations, lipsticks, mascaras
and other composites of the veneer that we staple to our faces
with a masochist's enthusiasm.
we suffocate in superficiality,
the empty rooms behind our facades
of plastic surgical implanted silicon Botox hair-dyed highlights.
we have quartered ourselves like calves at slaughter.
Wealthy style barons and plastic surgeons
chuckle at our diffidence and sort their
beauty profits into stacks.
The New Me: status quo corporeus post bellum
bleeding on the battlefield.
join me now in a moment of silence,
and a discontinuation of our
how do i look? how do i look? how do i look? how do i look? mindless litanies, ad infinitum!
rather i propose a mirror revolution,
an alternate incantation.
Sing along now:
Smash the mirror that
pushes little girls out of 29th story windows for not having 'enough where it counts'.
Smash the mirror that
erased our identities and made us drones for cosmetic CEOs.
Smash the mirror that
scrutinized our every organismic greasy pore into a state of self-loathing revulsion.
Smash the mirror that
drowns little boys with pocked complexions in early liqueur graves.
Smash the mirror that
plucks our eyebrows, lifts our smiles, paints our cheeks, and makes us dumbly grinning dolls.
Smash the mirror that
sells our personalities for a pretty face.
Smash the mirrors.
Smash your mirrors.
Smash all mirrors, lets liberate ourselves.
narcissus saw his reflection in a pool and was destroyed in self-loving stupefaction.
today we see our our reflections in puddles of rotting murk and are corroded from the outside in.
we choke ourselves in a powdered haze of cosmetics
quack remedies, mattes, perfumes, foundations, lipsticks, mascaras
and other composites of the veneer that we staple to our faces
with a masochist's enthusiasm.
we suffocate in superficiality,
the empty rooms behind our facades
of plastic surgical implanted silicon Botox hair-dyed highlights.
we have quartered ourselves like calves at slaughter.
Wealthy style barons and plastic surgeons
chuckle at our diffidence and sort their
beauty profits into stacks.
The New Me: status quo corporeus post bellum
bleeding on the battlefield.
join me now in a moment of silence,
and a discontinuation of our
how do i look? how do i look? how do i look? how do i look? mindless litanies, ad infinitum!
rather i propose a mirror revolution,
an alternate incantation.
Sing along now:
Smash the mirror that
pushes little girls out of 29th story windows for not having 'enough where it counts'.
Smash the mirror that
erased our identities and made us drones for cosmetic CEOs.
Smash the mirror that
scrutinized our every organismic greasy pore into a state of self-loathing revulsion.
Smash the mirror that
drowns little boys with pocked complexions in early liqueur graves.
Smash the mirror that
plucks our eyebrows, lifts our smiles, paints our cheeks, and makes us dumbly grinning dolls.
Smash the mirror that
sells our personalities for a pretty face.
Smash the mirrors.
Smash your mirrors.
Smash all mirrors, lets liberate ourselves.