tell me

tell me
tell me
tell me

can there still be
beauty in this cruel world?

Not the pre-packaged phoney beauty of "buy our flowers for mother's day"
not the pretense that consists in imported we don't belong here plants
in the middle of a fucking desert

not the pretense of everything you have seen before
to spare you from thinking or feeling

oh no
oh no
not that
says the american
i don't want to feel
above all i don't want to feel
something if i don't know what it is that i am feeling before we start

tell me if it is possible
even here in this cruel desert
is it possible?

beauty?
of form?
without a pre-planned control for the sake of some commercial
or egotistical
or social hierarchical
purpose?

No, don't tell me,
I won't believe you.

Show me.
Can you show me?
I don't believe you can.