Mangled Beauty

Your surgeon

smiles and you

shiver.

He says he will

remove twenty

years from your

face but he

does not say

to where.

He palpates

your thighs

and finds

little lumps

of flesh.

Cottage. Cheese.

The surgeon

will hack the

cottage cheese

from your thighs

for an extra

thousand dollars.

You hate him for

this, this man

who makes

so much less

for so much

more, but

oh, what can

you do?

You’re more

than a face;

you’re a torso

too.

Art and Poetry (c) Rob Goldstein 2013/2017

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