Jan 20, 2009

to the jenny humphreys

social climbing prima donnas miff me, especially when they get to my nerves. as a result, a portion of my usually optimistic spirit is marred. but, aside from the blithering bile causing the turmoil, i like it when people light up my ire untimely. it brings out my lyrical propensities. of course at first, i curse, eff and blind, and do a lot of internal bitching. but when i get a hold of my pen and journal to scribble my thoughts down, the score of the aftermath is positive. and because of the pleasant reverb my optimism is restored once again.

below is something i came up with while channeling out my angst. i don't think it's a poem, as it lacks the necessary elements. they're just phrases put together during my rage-driven impromptu writing exercise.



with the mien of a somebody

you walk and talk.

haute monde trysts

you'd die for to grace.



feigning a lifestyle of opulence

in truth an inurbane elitist.

effecting a sophisticate,

just to fit in aristocracy.



to shopping centers

you launch out like there's no morrow.

overlooking essentials

for luxury bagatelles ---

a far sight paradoxical,

you penniless materialist.



but at days end

when your facade is waning

and that maquillage ebbing,

did your efforts pay?



after all the social climbing

here you are

still not a somebody,

just the same old nobody.

but are you really happy,

glitterati wannabe?