GLAMOUR.
Walking the fine line
between glamour and
sobriety … taking care not
to fall between the
cracks … not to believe
in the darkness of the
daylight alone,
away from the glitter
of champagne cocktail nights,
designer jackets,
tastefully-torn jeans
and uncomfortable shoes.
The music must not stop;
shine the camera on me
just a little bit longer. See:
I am setting the pace,
flaunting a fashion statement.
Synthetic is but a natural
reaction against reality.
Just give me my moment.
A self-made idol;
cliches spat out and
regurgitated.
Yes, I could be a star.
What … my name?
I am just part of the
rhythm, the lights are
my melody against the
night of glittering glam.
A torn off piece of
average sparkling
against the annals of
history and the
forgettable.
(Adam Donaldson Powell, “Rapture: endings of space and time”, 2007)
Oso Para Vos 