So Much For The Tasty? Poem by Anna Polibina-Polansky

Why do you copy up their p*emb**k and so? What for? I avoid their trite looks, their malicious zionic deeds, their revolting, unaesthetic hugs. Pew me.

For ourselves. I was sitting and guessing of your natural smells, of how you look with hairs undone, teeth unbrushed, without your up ironed skirts and jackets. Afterwards, I dreamed of how to make you 100 percentage young female, how to impose speels-heels at you, tights, nice bras and lacy pants. Afterwards, I watched you with that repulsive local hanging-out and thought these are last minutes before splitting.

I find ugly, themselves, their vomittable celebrities, their dull stardom.