~JANET MCCANN~

TAKING OFF THE FACE

---

 

Mother would wash her makeup off
    after the party
and I would hear the water running
        as I lay on her bed and she told me
how Alan got drunk again
            and someone ran over the little dogwood
she had just planted
    and through the bathroom door
I caught a glimpse of soapy hands.

I would only imagine the colors
    swirling in the sink
reds, blues, browns, beiges
            the strands of her party face
separating and running together
    and then she'd come out smiling
and smelling of Ivory,
            an Austrian girl again,
all her America down the drain.
 
 

© by Janet McCann