When I chance to think of beauty
I choose a sweaty arse
I choose some unwashed panties
a human lack of class
Because once I was a dreamer
who saw just perfect skin
and the price that we all pay for that
is an ignorant one’s sin
We make the object lovely
we make the focus fine
but it’s for no mortal form
that we weakly pine
You see beauty is transcendent
away from figure’s line
and if you do look closely
a sweaty arse
can be
divine
Featured image – Vases by Sinead O’Moore
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