Celebrity  

I stared into the new moon sky,
black as can be, but for the stars,
shining like Hollywood memoirs
Tallulah Bankhead wouldn't try:

taboo pinpricks in the void
only some great hubris discerns
when falling from more graceful turns,
like Satan, cast out and annoyed...

or starlets in their boudoir robes
pirouetting in bold display
back in the golden age of day
like angels on their astral globes.

But night knows not of graciousness
without the rondure of the moon
reflecting into spaciousness...
the tabloid scandal of high noon!