Fashion Nation

Existentially speaking,

we all die.

Relics we leave behind for others,

once culturally defined,

a slurry now of overcooked vegetables

in the melting pot of what humanity has become.


For better, we are more homogenous,

conferring fewer reasons to hate

that which is and ever was kindred.

Yet knowing this, do we truly taste the apple

sweetness of experience, or drum up

further excuses to postpone joy?


At worst, we forget our ancestors,

those we derive from genetically,

even behaviorally,

perhaps to our peril.

For history, devoid of lessons learned,

proves a hollow saga

sucked dry of juice;

a dessicated plum placed primly

alongside a canvas of ripe peaches.


What traces will linger in an adolescent nation

whose excesses are counterpart

to senseless severity;

an artistic strangulation

where the Rubenesque among us

yearn to be thin and dry as wraiths?


A society threatened by hips and thighs

is doomed to infertility of the imagination.


6 comments on “Fashion Nation”

  1. Love this 🙂
    Love the last part.

  2. Great Message, and …
    Rubens, one of my favourirtes 🙂

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