the “it girl”

what it is that she
possesses
our eyes just can’t seem to
focus &
drawn to her by others chattering
by images plastered on the subway walls
the billboards, the plywood walkways &
spread-eagled all over the internet
like flies on shit
like flies on shit,
empty like a jar of peanut butter
been all licked out by one of those
tattooed emo-art clichés
who have cut their frenulum
so as to stretch out their tongues in photos &
to suck dicks all the way up the ladder of
success,
we’re still digging for some semblance of substance
but she’ll be gone so quick
like in an old time photo flash
that by the time the powder has been swept away
&
our eyes have adjusted back to the presence of light
we’ll be wondering where she went
as the next one gets slid into her place
with a new fragrance &
a pretty face.