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THE PLASTIC FACE AT BREAKFAST
I sit at breakfast
filling the hole in my face with
a dozen eggs and three doughnuts
when I become aware
of the plastic face staring up at me,
smiling.
She watches me grow fat while
she is eternally plasticized,
immortalized thin and happy.
She never changes,
just sits and mocks me as I turn
from a butterfly into a caterpillar.
I want to take
a cake and
force it into her open,
smiling orifice, but I know
it wouldn't penetrate
the plastic.
copyright Susan "Sam" Madden
http://www.fortunecity.co.uk/meltingpot/clyde/207/
