#106: O Lorde

O Lorde,
everyone and their
dog is giving you kudos
not only because
your music is
terrific but lately
because of a
tweet.
You posted
two pictures
of yourself both
taken from the
same day and the
same performance
and one of them
was photoshopped
and the other
was not.
People thought
this was brave
and forthright and
impressive, you,
17 years old and
famous, standing up
to the machine
with its fancy
photo fixing
software corrupting
young women and
men as well with an
unreal, unobtainable
beauty ideal. This is
all good, O Lorde,
but it would be even
more profound if
it were not true
that in both the
untouched photo
and the photoshopped
one you are equally
lovely, only more
freckled in one than
the other, which is lovely.
The touch-up did not make
you 15 pounds lighter,
cover some hideous
blemish, remove sweat
or drool or a booger
as far as we know.
So how impressive
IS this, really? I don’t
blame you, O Lorde,
for this silliness. Rather,
I make fun of those
that would lionize
and worship you
for such a mundane
observation about
how some photographer
doctored what did not
need doctoring by
removing your freckles.