In the aftermath of Anna Nicole Smith’s untimely death and the media frenzy over Britney Spears’ apparent inability to cope with fame and its consequences, the Borkowski poet in residence offers these words of advice for any starlet living on the edge…
To read Mark Borkowski’s take on the same subject, click here.
Bubbling, bubbling, bubbling under.
Who’s going to come and steal your thunder?
Who’s going to take your crown away
rock your confidence, make you sway?
Fresh as a, fresh as a, fresh as a daisy;
that’s what you were before fame turned you crazy.
Now even Frankenstein would act ashamed
of the changes that have left you maimed.
Nothing is, nothing is, nothing is easy;
celebrity world’s never bright and breezy.
It’s chipping away at your health and sanity.
So do you quit or give in to vanity?
More and more and ever more starlets
breeding mania, hate and regrets.
All you ever wanted could fade in a second.
Fame’s illegitimate, impossibly fecund.
Satis, satis, satisfaction
comes with a price – direct action.
Do you keep yourself true to your first intentions
or go for endless, useless reinventions?
Bubbling, bubbling, bubbling under,
your sanity’s there for the world to plunder.
Obscurity or lunacy’s the only escape,
not surgeons performing their plastic rape.
Breakdown, breakdown, no quick fix
can keep you from crossing the River Styx.
You’ll die as you lived so why not live well,
far from nip/tuck celebrity Hell
or burn baby, burn baby, burn baby, burn?
End your days in a glamourous urn.
Die in a pile of smoking cuttings
describing in detail your desperate ruttings
so long as you burst the celebrity bubble
before other innocents get into trouble.