Inner Beauty

Page after page

of what photographers

believe is beauty

today's fearful face

is the tin can that waits

for the gun to go off

some epicanthic fold

a dimple on the chine

will attract the meat seekers

who will surround the subject

for a short twinkling

then off to another lad or lady

left-behinds

slide down the greased poll

of fame and beauty

as the symmetry begins

its inevitable sag

former beauty becomes

a beggar in the street

their eyebrows run away

clutching a nasal hand

that falls away

as next year's bullet

tears away the perfect abdomen

Narcissus clouds his mirror

with no face

Barry G. Wick