Fiona Fair had cascading hair
and a face that didn’t please or offend
Her grooming routine took hours it seemed
She despaired ”Where would it end?”
She’d shampoo her hair
but it didn’t end there
after that she would rinse and detangle
She’d shave her legs bare
but stop she didn’t dare
there were underarm hairs to wrangle
She’d slather on lotion
a quite silly notion
if done before exfoliation
She’d pluck brows and nose hairs
while wondering who cares
about under-eye skin hydration
She’d pick out her clothes
which was not without woes
when her favorites weren’t laundered and pressed
She’d put on eyeliner
foundation as primer
for a topcoat of blush to look best
She’d blow dry and straighten
the hairs she’s now hating
with product she’ll wash out tomorrow
She’d sigh in the mirror
at a new wrinkle fear
deciding which creams she should borrow
Fiona Fair with the cascading hair
woke up yesterday and just couldn’t
Life was too fleeting to spend it preening
So from that moment on she just wouldn’t
Instead of taking showers
she lies in bed for hours
Greasy
Stinky
Without a care
Fiona Fair
Drinkers with Writing Problems 