Nikki Webster
It's hard to write a poem about Nikki Webster
So hard to know what tone to strike
While redheaded visions dance and stream in my head
And I ponder the meaning of beauty, of love, of magic
How do I write about this girl who was famous for a bit and then wasn't?
And then was for a bit more I think?
How do I capture the essence of Nikki?
Assuming she has one?
Do I consider the fleeting nature
Of childhood when caught in a spotlight?
Of an innocence robbed by flashbulbs
Youth corrupted by fame and destroyed by the cruel focus
Of that ever-ravening eye called Celebrity?
Do I mourn for the girl who once was
Who we loved even as we tore to shreds
And whose sad eyes would later gaze
From magazine stands
A smile on the lips, but a desperate plea
Reaching out to cry
"Remember who I was"
Do I do this?
No
Do I slyly eviscerate the girl
Who represented all that is tacky and twee
About the road our modern culture remorselessly drives us down?
Should I sarcastically document the grating voice
The imbecilic gestures
The repellent faux wholesomeness?
Should I pen a poem entitled, "Nikki Webster, Particle Physicist"
In order to highlight the comical juxtaposition
Between the brain-numbing symptom of societal malaise
That her rise to fame embodies
And the idea that she could ever achieve anything
That required an adult-level intelligence?
Should I?
No
Should I be wistful and yearning and write
Where are you now, Nikki Webster?
Where is the infectious smile that allowed us
For a brief while
To shrug off our cynicism and rejoice in the good the world has to offer?
Where are the freckles that sprinkled our TV screens
Like stars in a clearer night sky?
Where are you Nikki?
Your people need you more than ever
Should I write this?
No
Should I be absolutely disgusting and write a poem
About what I would do to Nikki Webster
In a sexual manner?
Should I make references crude to a nude decathlon
And explain how ceremonial her opening would be?
Should I write of how I've been missin' her Strawberry Kisses
From those lips that remind me of a Dyson Bagless?
Should my poem be entitled, "Nikki Webster, Human Nosebag"?
Should it?
No
Could I write a poem about things that rhyme with Nikki, like
Nikki you are tricky when you're sticky it's kinda dicky how you take the mickey out of Kenickie?
Could I?
No
I cannot with clear conscience do any of these things
With honesty and integrity intact I cannot
So what do I do?
Do I write a poem about how Nikki Webster was rebuilt by scientists after being mauled by a bear and now fights moon-pirates in the 28th century?
Yes
I think I do
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