Fading Beauty

There’s a screen between us, opaque; it filters our lives.

What you see is who I want to be and what I see is what
I imagine.

Now, you are the romantic; a tragic figure fights for his
rights, an amusement for the upper class.

I dance on the table, flushed with shame, for this I will
win the crown.

I am little Miss America lost on her stroll down the aisle.

I’m your little darling who forgot to look harmless.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2016-2017

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Dada sucks my Nipple its Claustrophobic Between your Noun

from Charlie Zero The Poet

Charlie Zero The Poet

Dada
  r
  o
  o
  l
  i
  n
  g

Arousal transmotto
Anti-nouns detach themselves from plisky

Male vitamin
feminism protein

Topless claustrophobic graffiti
     Hope is on life support
 e
 v
 e
 r
 t
 h
 e
 l
 e
 s
 s

Contracting views                                     Dadaist eggnog
sucking off the mice bourgeois              Dadaist cheese.

Art suffocates the nipple maps
tightened the photomontage ticket
Interlude what emanates

Daunting windowless cabaret
report plastic hormonal press
vacuum spectacle and…
philosophy breast feeds common sense
movement’s skip denouncements
rendezvous at fludd
Rosicrucian
Kabbalah
sion
m
a
i
n
s
t
r
e
a
m

F
r
a
u
d

*A few clues decide, many doors in your path,
you might have teased the first key.
Cover your eye with left hand.
Ask yourself – Which door should I shake hands?

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights…

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The Pippity Poppity Post-Modrenist Poetry of Felicity Duprix

(based on the Rachmaninoff piano concerto no. 2 in C minor, opus 18, which adds to the syntheses and deconstruction of the line, and which the astute reader knows was used as the soundtrack for the film, Deception, which starred Bette Davis.

 Felicity Duprix Among the French Cymbalists

She has strolled the
twenty yards among
the desperate Italians
who sleep on fine couches
beneath that crummy hotel
over Washington Square.

The wind as a Southern Storm
lifts her up to the land of
wildflowers and Irish seascapes.

Flemish belles wring

A clarion call!
An armistice! And
Felicity is alone on a
subway that goes
nowhere.

As surely as the clock ticks,

Just as surely there is a way
to escape Greenwich Village

But for Felicity, whose anguish
has never been televised

And whose skirts are off the rack

There is no escape to money
and romance.

Rachmaninov_ Piano Concerto #2 In C Minor, Op. 18 – 3. Allegro Scherzando
Community Audio

Poem and Image Rob Goldstein (c) 2015 All Rights Reserved

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