Those girls

Plucked fresh from the dealership floor
like eggs still warm with henhouse straw
proudly bearing temporary tags until
the vanity plates come FedEx from daddy
These girls drive cars worth more than
the rapidly disentegrating houses
rented to them in this college town

And how they love it.
A city small enough to get drunk
and lost without being shot or stabbed
– but within its limits, thousands of
stupid young men!
They might as well be goddesses
in Greek fairytales

And don’t they know it.
They dress expensive, too
showing off enough to turn our heads
faster than even their cars do
Shredding most hopes that we’ll
ever pay attention in class
or get through a meal at the dining hall
without choking half to death

And they would kill us with their looks,
if they could. They wield this
twisted power like a toy,
making victims of everyone
including themselves, however indifferent
and out of reach they might act.
But there they are, unchanging
and growing slowly cold
tangling their emotions around guys
false as themselves – being vulnerable only
at the very times when they should not

And they have no idea
And still we hang helpless
on their every step and word
equally ignorant of how much time,
thought, misguided emotion
we are wasting.
Thank God for cigarettes
thank God for beer weight
and irritating cell phones
Only with help do we glimpse
shallow girls for what they are.

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