Keeping Up With Veda

She sees the flashes
when others don't
Hearing her call for
direction
perfection in every reflection
It's her party
And she'll primp
if she wants to
Puckering her lips
as if exhaling Marlena's smoke
They all stand in line
for a chance to choke
She sees what others
don't
Her name is her game
Throwing shame into
the flame
Veda's her fame
Careful of the drop
you spill
may multiply her skill
On her even a drop
could not stop
her magnetism's like a
mop
But who dares to ring
her out
with delusions of clout
Able to go bout for bout
with heavier hitters
weighty stout that pout
And she makes them see
what she wants them
to see
Vega Baja, non
oh dear corason
Be it San Juan or
Rincon
Do try reach her by phone
Even if all alone
a party at Eros
will bring the cows home
Warmth is her comfort
Where on earth is Mumford?
Stilettos for the Geppettos
naturally too tall for any ghettos
They wish to be her
PETA turns the other cheek
to this girl's fur
And she makes them know
And tells them so
So much for the Afterglow
that covers billboards of the
low
It's all about the chick
with a different kind
of stick
Able to form a click
in a mind that's limitlessly
Sick
And the heavens drop more
than cash
Such beautiful ash!

Reviews

[Siddhartha]

Oh, keeping up is difficult indeed, especially when you bring in so many facets and allusions. A brilliant write this.Poetic in its form as well as its thought. Brims with austere spirituality in times of the consumerist wave.