people watching

superstardom
with flashes and fans
at the Met
with a dress to admire,
sheer lace,
paparazzi,
and tons of flesh
to showcase.

haute couture
for the stars,
so much fabric
to have,
a show off
for the people,
and some cocktails
inside,
with petit fours
to savour
and some wine.

from Jacqueline,
to Marilyn,
from Twiggy
to Cindy,
the super life
of the super gals
on display
at the gala-
in the now,
and the then.

the giddy girls
emulate,
the older ladies
would like
to be them,
some glitter
some fun,
what is there to hate?

We disconnect,
read the magazines,
dream away,
and then,
we reconnect,
come back to our lives
feeling
like a Brando,
or a Pacino,
after shooting
Scarface,
with a grin on the face
for this watching
of beautiful people
and the rest.
it has become a hobby,
to get carried away
in a Mr. Big way.