Tuesday, November 1, 2011

My seventeenth slice-of-life story...

Professional in a slick black dress and fitted cardigan,
not the comfy cord bell-bottoms and turtleneck sweater.
Fancy with fishnet tights and my Ann Taylor suede heels,
not the standard brown Mary Janes with argyle socks.
Dangly, beaded earrings,
not the daily diamond studs.
Well coiffed hair resting on my shoulders,
not the haphazard ponytail flipped every which way.

Waiting in the darkness to make the left turn into Starbucks,
I capitalized on the spare second
to apply color and shiny gloss
to my familiar lip line.
A small cosmetic light overhead supervised.

But not closely enough.

After school projects A, 2, and C and before the big meeting began,
(yes, the one for which I was dressed to impress...)
I quickly peeked into my closet mirror
intent on smoothing a few rowdy pieces of hair.
Much to my surprise, the hair was spared.
It was my lips that stole my gaze,
pronounced in clown-like glory.
(or terror, take your pick)

New lipstick last week; new gloss too.
New problem.
One of them ran...
into the billion tiny wrinkles framing my already-generous smackers.

Embarrassed, I took a covert survey while chatting with my classroom neighbors as students shuffled by;
no one noticed.

Shopping tonight.
New colors; new products.
Hopefully, different results.
Because Halloween was YESTERDAY...

Write on,


  1. You created suspense. I chuckled at - no one noticed. Love your structure.

  2. You had me waiting for another Starbucks story, but no, it was a Halloween chuckle, I guess. We just never know what will happen really, do we? I too like that you put this into a poem. It has a halting, questioning rhythm.

  3. Isn't that always what happens! Whenever your dressed up something ruins it. I was ready to walk out the door in my new outfit to meet a new day, bam coffee spill...back to the old wardrobe. I love the suspense build up in this piece, so fun!


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