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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