All Work

A lean mean hawk of a man Pounding his big stick on the floor “Un, deux, trois, quatre” Till his demeaning voice withers the spirit Of his next anorexic victim, later left Distraught in the dressing room Sobbing in silence Her thin bony frame pulsating. I was grateful those dark piercing eyes never settled on me, But I always listened intently To every barbed comment My mind filtered out The harshness of his words And I learned the essence Of how a body is transformed

Carefully sitting on the stool, she counts out some change in slow motion, pauses, and tries to remember why she’s there. Electrified bleached-white hair shoots out from her white powdered face. A slight furrowing of her brow disturbs her immobility. The counterman waits impatiently. She concentrates, then whispers the order he already knows. "Coffee regular and a sugar doughnut."