Lipstick 2

Lipstick 2

I keep a bit of gristle behind my two front teeth
and listen to the ladies with their lunch and babies
bickle on about boring stuff.

We chew rosemary and I pick over the carcass
while Martha proclaims the benefits
of hot water to the bowels.

Kate, calm as eggs despite her brood
wills us all to bud
and rise to walk off our weight.

Clearly Laura loves the mirror more than lakes
as she lags in the cloakroom
with a compact and lipstick and the girl with her notebook.

In a wellies and mac I am miserable
and watch Kate conduct the girl to the phone
in the manner of a mandolin.

Azzie itching for activity
is in on the shadows of cruelty at the girl's back,
dictionary fingers ink inking the air.

Turning, everything I fear
is on the girl's lips.
in bright red wax

Two pieces of dough
slam sandwiched
as if in answer to an upset onion.

I see confidence creep in
and notice those lips clip like purses
that do not open until dinner time.