The Beautician’s Shop

You said they told you that
I am a painter and a beautician and
You tell me to paint you
To paint you as you are
With your exact shape and being
You said not to miss anything
And you said I should make you fine
Even when you’re not good a model
You want me to soak my brush in paint
And draw you smiling
Of course – I must paint you
The way you are
That is my art

Before we start let me get these ready
We need an old chewing stick
Rugged and crooked
We need also a rough board for our canvas
The one picked from the desert
Deposited there by the wind
And refused to be picked by passers by
We need leaves, rocks, chalk, charcoal,
Red and black earth
Dug out from the desolate land
That never bore anything living
A land devastated by arsenals
And bathed in blood
Ages ago and long forgotten in history

The Beautician’s Shop

And finally, we need sprinkler too
To spray our mixed resources
Onto the canvas to create
A comprehensible atmosphere

Now sit
Take off your shoes
Sit like you own the world
Flash your teeth
Let the sun make it shine like diamonds
On exhibit
Steady your body and keep your head firm
So that you don’t appear like a deer
Adjust your lips too
To avoid you appearing like a baby
Sucking breast

Okay, we are ready

You know,
Your head is rough and rugged
But don’t worry; this chewing stick is a perfect match
Your colour is not one; it is mixed
Yea, worry not
The sprinkler will do the work
It will sprinkle our surrogate paint
On the canvas to create the image we need
I will not only use coal to paint your teeth
I will try adding our fanciful chalk to it
So that people do not know that you have no white teeth

The Beautician’s Shop

Okay, we’re almost done
Just that you’re sitting like someone that owns my shop
I only asked you to sit like you own the world