Looks Is Everything

Beauty is a celebrity.
It can walk down a street
and attract more attention
than even Johnny Ramone.

On a Chelsea street
in the evening heat
long hair blows in the breeze,
and she is everything.
Sssst!
Hey!
Mami!
So good!
You got it goin' on babydoll!
You're the fashion queen.
You sell everything
in scented magazines
that represent what we want life to be.
Have you seen our Cindi
in that micro-mini
in last spring's march issue of Vogue?
On the phone she complains
while she pets her great dane
to her manager, or her agent
or whatever he is,
that her flight has been overbooked
but she will never be overlooked.

On the same Chelsea street
my boyfriend I will meet
see I bought that micro-mini
but my ass ain't quite so skinny
and eighth avenue ain't last march's issue of Vogue.
No scented smells
just cat calls swell
in my ears, somebody whispers "how much?"
The skirt's designer may never be overlooked.
But if I don't split soon,
I'm liable to get booked.

Beauty is a celebrity.
It can walk down a street
and attract more attention
than even Johnny Ramone.

Hey Johnny ...gotta match?