Dignity's Wealth (+1)

Kurt Philip Behm

An eighty-buck hairdo,

an eighty-year face

 

The two now in conflict,

all balance erased

 

With age as a symbol

to search and destroy

 

All vanity coddled,

to plunder and toy

 

Bejeweled and bedangled,

she limps from the chair

 

Her stylist left smirking,

paid well—more than fair

 

These ‘blue hairs’ a staple,

her ticket to fame

 

The stench of the hair dye,

the price of the game

 

The credit card processed,

cash tip in her hand

 

She escorts Miss Edna

to her handicapped van

 

In the mirror she wonders,

as she looks at herself

 

“Am I just a pariah

—stealing dignity’s wealth”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2021)

 

 

Dew On The Lilacs

 

Surrogate reality,

divorced from what’s real

 

The news on your cable,

and movies conceal

 

The brands that you purchase,

the labels you wear

 

Convince you of something,

the ‘Emperor’ shares

 

While consciously vacant,

unconsciously lost

 

The dew on the lilacs,

impermanent frost

 

Like quicksand it’s calling,

disguised as a beach

 

Your essence is falling,

and far out of reach

 

As peacocks left strutting,

unable to fly

 

Your time ever wasted

—and waving goodbye

 

(Bryn Mawr College: February, 2021)

 

  • Author: Kurt Philip Behm (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 5th, 2021 09:26
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 16
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Comments6

  • Jerry Reynolds

    Well written Kurt.

  • Kurt Philip Behm

    Thanks again, Jerry.

  • Doggerel Dave

    Dignity's Wealth has definite resonances for me as I visit a unisex (or whatever the current terminology is) salon for a quick shear. And if it’s quick enough I might only have to take three breaths during the visit… A very smooth amusing read, thanks.

  • Kurt Philip Behm

    Thanks Dave. My office used to share a common wall with a salon that catered to senior women.
    They did permanents on Wednesdays and the smell of that solution literally came through the walls.

    I'm glad we finally moved.

    🙂

    Kurt

  • FredPeyer

    Two great poems, Kurt. The barber in the village where I grew up once told me that there was only one other guy with hair as bad as mine: my Father! So I used brill cream, then water, then finally got to the point where I figured if a girl does not like me because of my hair, so be it! Still feel the same way.

  • Kurt Philip Behm

    Sound wisdom, Fred. Thanks.



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