as he sat slumped at the marble counter
in the master bathroom
facing the mirror which spanned
the width of the wall
he stared forward
and craned his neck
tilting his head this way
then that, slowly opening
his mouth as wide as can be
then slowly closing his lips
examining himself with squinting eyes
the routine was as repetitive as time
transforming his face
as if in a trance
first with a bleaching
and second by applying
shades of red and orange and yellow
on his cheeks and around his eyes
screwing on a big red ball
over his existing nose
and cramming a rainbow wig
atop his balding crown
november, two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
