She wakes, the bride of Frankenstein
Retires to her bathroom shrine. She showers and uptowels her hair
And plucks her brows to nearly bare.
She creams her face a mystic sheen
The pallor of an English queen.
Depilator's her hairy legs
And paints her eyes like Easter eggs.
She manicures her hands and toes
A little powder on her nose
A pinch of cheek to whisper pink
Hangs earrings that would rouse a shrink.
She changes cloths a dozen times
Each time each look she pantomimes.
And challenges the mirrored wall
To show the fairest of them all?
Startles me with a piercing "HEY,"
Good God, "I look like hell today."
[This message has been edited by Seymour Tabin (edited 09-16-99).]