I see the most beautiful bodies

                  Of my generation

Falling to the curtain – call of heroin

    While spotlight transcends fragile white

                            Corpse-skin

And lonely hair strands

                     The audience gapes

                     Laughter shakes

And tears drown

And she runs around the stage like a gladiator

                                From a tiger

       And all she has are weakness and whiteness

And she asks her self if that makes her

                       Less of a woman

                                   Or more of one,

          And even though she wins,

                                    She dies.

 

10 February 2004