Sensory 70’s
“Say cheese.”
“CHEESE!”
/flash
The atomic white cloud
instantly expands and hovers
in the center of my vision,
even with my eyes closed.
I blink hard to make it disappear faster.
Today I would have said: “Goddamn
flash bulbs. And this pantyhose
is itchy as hell!” if I’d known
how to curse as a kid in the 70’s.
I was taught beauty is pain, while
complaining as sections of my hair
were wound tightly around foam rollers
all over my head, waking up with a
headache and tangles.
Anxiously sitting in silence
my eyes pressed out hot tears that burned
all the way down my cheeks, as
knots came loose with a mother’s
heavy handed Mason Pearson Boar Bristle.
No more tears my ass.
I sat still so the nail polish would dry,
otherwise, we’d have to take it off
and start all over again,
my energy pulled back
from the tips of my fingers and toes
and settled down, there, in my lower back,
just enough to keep me from twitching
with my body screaming from the inside,
I gotta move!
At the beach, I stood still as a soldier
until the hat with a brim
was secure under my chin
as cold, white cream was
generously slathered over my skin
Watching, through dark sunglasses
that managed to steal everything’s vibrance.
When I grew up
I threw caution to the wind,
ran through hot sands,
into the ocean where
the unholy sun had it’s way
on my bare skin.