Dignity’s Wealth

An eighty-buck hairdo,

an eighty-year face

 

The two now in conflict,

all balance erased

 

With age as a symbol

to search and destroy

 

All vanity coddled,

to plunder and toy

 

Bejeweled and bedangled,

she limps from the chair

 

Her stylist left smirking,

paid well—more than fair

 

These ‘blue hairs’ a staple,

her ticket to fame

 

The stench of the hair dye,

the price of the game

 

The credit card processed,

cash tip in her hand

 

She escorts Miss Edna

to her handicapped van

 

In the mirror she wonders,

as she looks at herself

 

“Am I just a pariah

—stealing dignity’s wealth”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2021)

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