gazing at falsehood

societies have erected temples;
to win wars, to gain peace;
to make fields and girls fertile;
ensure the future and placate the past;
 
yet the notion to reward falseness;
with coin and rapt attention;
the woman with airbrushed thighs;
coyly glance from glossy magazines;
 
the comic books of my youth tell;
of super-strength and commanding fire;
awesome, yes, I know that these powers;
are not for the likes of mortal man;
 
once flipping through Teen People;
I counted fifty-three skinny blondes;
they are as distant as a superhero;
yet all kinds attempt to imitate them;
 
Adonis imbued in us a desire;
never able to be quenched;
to be someone we are not;
nor ever could possibly be;
 
gaze into a mirror soon, not now;
for this poem is not quite over and;
its author knows too well of Adonis;
but nothing but reality will meet you;
 
creeping across every inch of your body;
and deeper to each facet of your character;
the smiling blondes do not live;
they lived until a camera stole their soul;
 
they became timeless, floating in timeless void;
smoothed into into sculpture;
turned from person to portrait;
 
the post-industrial world is busy;
full of deeply serious people that work far too hard;
when they return home why escape into;

a reality that hurts the heart?;

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