Model Appearance Poem by Martin O'Neill

Chiffon shimmer through the glare
A flashgun marks each pose
Forwards, backwards, turn and stare,
A wilting wasted rose.

Glossy features, marbled skin
A sweat and cocaine glaze
The dead zone lurking just within
Reflected in her gaze

Matchstick girls on wheatstraw legs
With perfect pearl white teeth
Rictus grin from soul's last dregs
A walking funeral wreath.

Apocalyptic horsemen,
Pestilence, Death and War
Beside the Paparazzi
Applauding number four.

The wealth of nations plundered,
In Glitterati hands
To buy the Next hot number
From fashion's coolest brands.

And on the streets of Delhi
The children's fingers bleed
To fill their hungry bellies
And fulfill fashion's greed.

The coffin is size Zero
A catwalk queen lies dead
She could have been somebody
But starved to death instead.