And probably this aint the end-of-me–
vanity is deceit.
But of the the image
I create and would like to meet
some say,
if deceit clears the way
for sailing

vanity sunrises til the end of days.
Armageddon, or at least a ways.
And if deceit
secretly needs disturbed commandments
for vanishing
on tangents
and deceitfully lyrical landings,

and planned
pageants of meaning,
then I’ve had it
with attitudinal-ly addicted flab-listed
blog-money tag-hopping
post-laughable vanity-plate shaper’s,
and bad players.

You aint a player, you’re vanity-desk maker.