Red Carpet

Virtually striving for perfection or possession of that face

That was seen in a contemporary iconic scene

Conjured by the writer, director, and editor in leagues

With central casting, actors, and makeup artists

And everyone else behind the curtain that you never see work the hardest

By design, to implant the image of that teenage heartthrob

Who was actually thirty years old when he landed the roll, around in your daughter’s subconscious, front yard

All this make up doesn’t really much get us together

We just put on our appropriate gear for outside and deal with the weather

Tolerating the stars in the light time of day

Amidst constellations and hard to find glimmers of truth displayed

But back to those unyielding desires for sashays

Everyone wants to be the focal point for four or five days

Turning heads when you walk by in that way

Like you’re runway modeling for Yves Saint Laurent

Desires are actually more like four or five years

Unsatisfied with your current tier and blandness of the atmosphere

So the internet is your pathway into the lives of the pack revered

Or in other terms obsessively worshiped

Desktop folders filled with image clips of cheeks, chins, foreheads and full lips

An adoration of others gone awry and never stopping

Turned to a reimagining of self, today called photo-shopping

Collaging a modern day Frankenstein, minus the rage and fear of fire

To be beautifully draped in a designer, on the red carpet….

©Illcat Inc. 10/15/2016