When I look at glossy magazines, 
I think of Hephaistos, thrown from Olympus 
for being ugly, and I can’t help but wonder 
if he shudders at the airbrushed cover models 
who are made to look right with just one click 
of a computer key, does he leave a bolt askew 
on purpose when he tinkers in his workshop?

Beauty is equated to health—if you are obese,
it’s because all you do is eat and drink—
and the world is built for the able body: 
“There’s a ramp here somewhere. Around the corner, 
maybe?” Would he shake his head, remembering when 
he was called Hephaistos the clubfooted?
Does he know he’ll never make the front cover?

Image by Rachel Claire