My Mirror
Only shows the face; never the hips!
The wide eyes, never the Howdy Doody Lines around the lips;
They drag me down, make me look old and cranky,
Crank shaft caught, locked up, no bearings, only slips.
The wide eyes; never the Howdy Doody Lines around the lips;
Or rooster’s neck, or moles and freckles’ flaws;
Manicures, not wrinkled hands with claws!
They drag me down, make me look old and cranky,
Grouchy, dulled, discarded, dank-y;
Dismal, drifting, bony, blank-y.
Crank shaft caught, locked up, no bearings, only slips:
Gears go slow: from fourth to first… and stall
From showroom… to lot… to used… to junk…that’s all.
The Vibrant Channeled Creator 
Jan 20, 2013 @ 14:55:22
There is nothing junky about you or your poem, Jeanne. Love this!!!
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Jan 20, 2013 @ 19:33:09
In other words, the pen is mightier than the mirror!
Jeanne
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Jan 21, 2013 @ 09:04:26
This poem is very artful, even though it does not describe you at all. Your face is a delight.
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Jan 21, 2013 @ 10:38:55
AWH! GOSH!
You sisters know how mirrors turn us inside out!
Jeanne
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