She puts her face on
while the trains shakes so much that
I can’t get to sleep.
She is declaring
that her companion’s boyfriend
is glib and feckless,
(my words for her words)
and only an idiot
would put up with him.
Across the aisle,
the idiot nods her head,
and whispers, “I know.”
She makes me wonder
how a girl applies make-up
without a mirror:
foundation; lipstick;
especially mascara –
don’t you have to look?
But she has moved on
to the idiot’s parents,
who seem to expect
consideration,
and the idiot’s prospects,
that diminish some
with each refusal
to follow the sage advice
of Madame Justice.
I begin to see
That no mirror is required
For one so wise; that
it must be a cinch
to decorate a face one
never examines.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment