Fair.

When I think of fair, I think of “Is life fair?”

And it stops there.

But fair is two words.

It’s simple, light skinned blonde, virgin beauty

That girl you want to bring home

That’s fair.

And the nice geeky guy with the glasses to whom you don’t pay a second thought

Brings this fair girl home

That’s also fair.

What’s not fair is watching something beautiful get torn apart

By something that it subjects itself to

What’s not fair is being punished

For something you didn’t do

Fair is also an ideal

It may be something we can never quite reach

Everyone feels as if injustice touches them

I don’t know if it’s that perfection can never exist

Or if it can never exist because

It’s different in all of our minds

So all we have is fair

And I can’t even say that that’s always there.

You know what else fair is?

It’s a place where you ride cheap seats

Speckled with colorful gum

Of previous passengers with tired jaws

Or perhaps

Rolled to the ground as their screaming mouths formed a yawn

Sticky floors covered in piss and vomit or both

Who knows?

And I paid $30 for this?

I’m not sure if that’s fair either…

Fair.  I can’t say I’ve thought about it much before.

I think it’s safe to say its forgotten.

I don’t rely on fair.  I rely on what’s there.