BENEFIT FOR THE BEAUTIFUL

I see Jesse.
I see her smile.
I see her perfect teeth
and perfect lips
and all too perfect eyes.

Jesse
does not see me.
Jesse looks at a guy
on the other
side of the room.

he is
a handsome son of a bitch
and I hate him for
all the obvious reasons.

I hate him
because he looks like a man
in one of those
male fashion magazines.
a perfect bastard
in every way.

impeccably
dressed and smiling
and stinking of
cordiality.

well-shaven
with raven black hair
and an immaculately
sculpted
widow’s peak.

he is an
investment banker
an engineer or maybe
a real estate
developer.

he is
naturally considered
more competent
with more intrinsic integrity
than an ordinary factory
worker like me

a drudge
with a misshapen ear and dark
sunken suspicious eyes
crooked teeth
and a bad attitude.

I light a cigarette
and blow smoke in the
direction of Jesse.

she waves
it away with a perfect
French manicured hand.

she
continues
to look with enduring
admiration and appreciation
at the fashion magazine
man with the
widow’s peak of
a vampire

and I wonder

why
the hell
did they invite
me to
this party.