POET

The Battle Of The Curl

By M. E. Wood

Plastic curlers, bobby pins,
Velcro and hot rollers.
Remember those cotton strips
Tied into gentle bows?
When beauty calls
Time, pain and tears are paid
For the perfect curl.
Money is irrelevant
When in the wizard's chair.
Toxic chemicals for permanent spirals
Are all the rave
At least, until next year.

*published in Sol Magazine / September 2003
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COMMENTS: This humorous poem points out how quickly beauty fads fade. It also reminds that un-natural beauty hurts.