Beauty is Imperfection

She said she liked my song

But not the tasteless arrangement

My melodies are like pigs, she said

And roll in muddy firmament

And her dark eyes had kohl and looked wet in the room

Here she knew she could judge me

Knew her look meant my doom

Looking for a flat or a word out of place

She could cut me and see the pain on my face

My whittling thirds and a seventh out of time

I cut it too quickly like the green off a lime

She knew how it hurt to squeeze some flavor from truth

Still she shot down my song

Called it tasteless, uncouth

Then she asked me for dope money

And I gave her a ten

Till next time she cuts me

When we do this again

And as she left me alone

So her arm could seize joy

I’m here tasteless in waiting

For those with taste to destroy