the “it girl”

what it is that she

possesses

our eyes just can’t seem to

focus &

drawn to her by others chattering

by images plastered on the subway walls

the billboards, the plywood walkways &

spread-eagled all over the internet

like flies on s**t

like flies on s**t,

empty like a jar of peanut butter

been all licked out by one of those

tattooed emo-art clichés

who have cut their frenulum

so as to stretch out their tongues in photos &

to suck dicks all the way up the ladder of

success,

we’re still digging for some semblance of substance

but she’ll be gone so quick

like in an old time photo flash

that by the time the powder has been swept away

&

our eyes have adjusted back to the presence of light

we’ll be wondering where she went

as the next one gets slid into her place

with a new fragrance &

a pretty face.