Plastic Parts

Plastic celebrity,
I used to slag you off,
I used to call you a stupid bitch
And put my pint of tea
Down on your picture
On the front page of the paper
Where you’d be pulling a plastic caper
For the camera -
A staggerer not a stammerer.
I don’t know a thing about you,
I’d just heard about your tits
And seen some photo-didn’t-quite-fits,
And so I decided I would hate you.
I wanted to be against you,
You looked so fake
In those pauper-glossed portraits,
And I got sick of your face
Getting in my face –
But is that really you?

It’s easy to label you a dumb blonde tart,
But are you playing a plastic part?
I think we all play plastic parts,
As fake as your tits
And other people’s noses
And other people’s public bits;
It made me feel better
To put you down,
It made me feel more sincere.

But I think we all play plastic parts,
And you’re just better at it
Than most of us ordinary farts.
You have to be:
You’re front page news,
Whereas most of us are in the sideline queues
Criticising people like you,
Criticising people who
Are constantly in the public view.

Our bodies
May be real skin and bone
But we are plastic with our
Families,
We are plastic in the home;
We are plastic in our feelings,
Our emotions.
The ‘Inner Zone’.
We are plastic with each other,
You rich dumb airhead tart:
We are plastic at heart.

 

 

(picture coming soon...)