Like Sand through the cracks of fingers

So fickle inspiration is

Shaped like smoke

Creativity is

Individual

And intrinsic

A masterpiece in each mind

Noir is the New

Vogue is so 80’s social

And we’re building a dance dance revolution in the halls of democracy

Fueled with the spirits of freedom

Distilled from the grains of middle America

A nice neat clean sip

To share with all countrymen and gal

A culture of cultures

The toast of every town hall

America

A place to call home to all

Even to those who have never set foot on its shores

It’s Kind of like the smoke I mentioned before

As Marilyn Manson might say

This is the Noir Neauveaux

And it’s so en Vogue this cold burn winter

S.A.D. It’s getting to me.

I could use a little sunshine on Nice shores.

Maybe next year I’ll go.

Maybe catch a fashion show

And see the icons of another screen

But for now I’ll just write this poem

Off like a 1099 exemption

With Wind whisking away my quill

Poet Rating of Own Poem (Out of Five Stars) : TRASH