Tuesday, September 11, 2018

The Abercrombie & Fitch Model

The eternal rebel kid in your living room
     is the same as the one in the photo
          and the same as you remember,
An archetype
     who held all you put in it,
     into the pout,
          the wind-brushed hair,
                the vampire pallor
-- there was a time
     a look was
          deeper than philosophy
                and just as empty,
When the world had
     stopped us dead
          in our tracks
And all we could
     muster was
          this reaction
Part-Prince, part-martyr,
     all-pirate,
Like the only heroism
     left was to die
          in an original way,
     and be mourned
          by the doomed.

The same extremity that
     drove them to that
Now drives us to envy
     of them,
How the silver plum
     hasn't yet
          crushed their crown
     and the mouths to feed
          aren't yet
          talking back,
Their poses of ancient gallantry
     grow into stone
As our jealousy
     slowly turns
           to scorn
In helpless
     waiting.