Oscar Night

The Oscars are tonight–

One wonders who will fight

For glory and fame,

And an eternal name,

Upon a golden statue

(Or in reruns, or what have you)

It’s plain to see

(Well, it is for me)

That talent trumps beauty–

And those who flaunt their booty,

Will eventually fade away

To lives dull and gray–

Back to all things ordinary

And leave the extraordinary

To the current high flying adored,

Who slouch about, looking bored

Sipping wine from crystal glasses,

While deliberately ignoring the masses

Who scream for their heros

(And nothing for the zeros)

They live for fame and recognition,

That revolves around these conditions–

That you stay thin and young

(Despite the fact your breasts have hung

Down longer than a plum-bob)

And that you stand and hob-nob

While well-wishers shriek and caper

For your lipsticked name upon a paper–

(Which will likely last better

Than your thousand dollar sweater)

Good luck with the fleeting game

Of Oscars, gift bags and fame–

It all could end

With this phrase, my friend–

“And the Oscar goes to–

NOT YOU!”

 

 

 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Oscar Night

  1. Phyllis Ring says:

    That plumb-bob line’s a kicker. 😉

  2. lulujbf7 says:

    Yes–and don’t you just wonder how much in the way of ‘under-pinnings’ they’re wearing? They must be SO glad to get home and back into their ratty old PJs!

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