Digital Collage

Mangled Beauty

He palpates

your thighs,

and finds

little lumps

of flesh

named after

food.

Cottage. Cheese.

The surgeon

will hack

the cottage

cheese

away for

an extra

thousand

dollars.

You hate

him for

this, this

man

who makes

so much

less for

so much

more.

But 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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