Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

“Oh no, I think you’re pretty,” I replied,
but, truthfully, you didn’t seem convinced—
me neither maybe. “How would you portray
yourself?” The question might assuage my guilt.
Of all your qualities, your thoughts, your skills—
of all arresting physicality—
your metaphor of beauty was a skin
tag – ugly for a minor cause – and in
your instant answer I knew shame in me—
I knew that I agreed, that I’m who kills
you when I’d rather love you, lustscapes built
as temples for perfection. And I’d say
I think you’re pretty while my ardor winced
away—I said you’re pretty and I lied.

we know that lies are necessary
a needed evil for lubrication
like oil is a needed evil

we run on oil, it gets us here to there
just as we run on lies
slippery as petroleum and good intentions

you can juice and you can lube and you can flirt
but let's face it. We'll say anything
to get under that skirt

oil and lies...seems we have a lot fo that going around today...cuntry after cuntry of peeping toms looking up the skirts of ladies liberty..."What dominating conquest can we find up there?"