for stagnant consciousness


Their ruffles define them.
Their blush is staged. Yet somehow their
fragile ruse
is gripping
to Levis which hem in
organs of perverted precedence.

No mind is paid to mind when
body wraps a plastic bag
around the airway of rational thought.
What is transparent to us
is obscure to them…
and intriguing.

Yet a paper brain
cannot be dressed up and
substance cannot be attached
with tiny paper tabs.

But none of that matters
to them;
the spin doctors curing hope
with anorexia and doll parts
who continue to perceive beauty
as an image,
not a text.



© 2001, Arden Davidson