Voices call like distant ringing
Winding up my duplex steps
The clock is winding down and bringing
The time for flames to stretch and flex
Steam puffs smoky on my mirror
My son calls for his hat and tie
I strain to see my face grow clearer
The hazy woman seems to cry
Family, friends, and foes descend
Vultures will circle for Saturday’s feast
This face will surely crack and rend
A vision of a haggard beast
Magic potion’s blessed cure
Found in a bottle from Lancome
A concoction made from frankincense and myrrh
Born in the arbour of a garden gnome
Applied to the face, the result is charming
Brush strokes erase the creases of time
Although, the night might be alarming
The glow of youth can still be mine
Oh, the horror! Oh, the shock!
Shul bathroom mirrors never lie
The vial’s promises were a crock!
Twenty four hours have gone by
My face is melting off it’s foundation
Like the chocolate fountain fondue
This is not the bar mitzvah celebration
I envisioned for me or you
It’s all the fault of Lancome
Promising perfection, longevity, and youth
Should have had the kiddush at home
Instead of standing here so uncouth
At least we will recoup the money
For cakes, cholent, kishke, and wine
No need to worry about anything, honey
Vengeance will be mine!
Poem inspired by the news story, Orthodox Jewish woman sues Lancome over 24-hour makeup
