Morning
Susan Elliott
A mist of hairspray clings to the mirror,
grime develops, leaving pockmarks behind.
It’s the bad kind of spray—the aerosol
variety that slowly eats away
at the ozone meant to protect you--
a needle shooting harmful chemicals
into its invisible networked bloodstream,
distorting normal function, leaving you
exposed to the elements. A greenhouse
effect envelops the room, fogs the glass
and clogs the drain. Sweat beads build
on top of makeup, melting the foundation
upon which you build a face for human
interactions, gathering at the lines of the mouth.
But hiding blemishes will not reduce
your carbon footprint, using more and more
concealer to reverse effects of the sun,
of natural aging, of artificial heat
lamps, of hairspray on the ozone layer.
Susan Elliott
A mist of hairspray clings to the mirror,
grime develops, leaving pockmarks behind.
It’s the bad kind of spray—the aerosol
variety that slowly eats away
at the ozone meant to protect you--
a needle shooting harmful chemicals
into its invisible networked bloodstream,
distorting normal function, leaving you
exposed to the elements. A greenhouse
effect envelops the room, fogs the glass
and clogs the drain. Sweat beads build
on top of makeup, melting the foundation
upon which you build a face for human
interactions, gathering at the lines of the mouth.
But hiding blemishes will not reduce
your carbon footprint, using more and more
concealer to reverse effects of the sun,
of natural aging, of artificial heat
lamps, of hairspray on the ozone layer.