The Orator Considers What is Beautiful in its Time

it is addressed thusly:
A word.
it reads:
These persons of tan, taut skin
In the news, out of the corner of my eye
I think, is that a bronze mannequin?
But as often, my sight may lie
What is the makeup for that?
What body oils? What workout plans?
Is it brass elegance at the drop of a hat
Or hours of dabbing and light fans?
Is it the flash of the camera that brings
Out this metallic countenance?
Is it mortal desire which rings
The dab'd eyes, the strange romance?
I cannot blame, one such as I am
Who knows, perhaps I am misled
Content with my meager ham
Ready as ever, rolling out of bed
Perhaps a stray hair may interfere
And dirt intrude too dense
And tiredness too much inhere
As surely I lack good sense;
Nonetheless once I saw the woods
Unchang'd, surely, but for my eye
In a light so crisp, what strange moods!
I know of a beauty which does not lie.

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