DISCONTINUED

As soon as I got used

to any make-up merchandise –

it did the trick, was hypoallergenic,

made me sing María’s West Side Story song –

inevitably the Boots girl wrung her hands

saying, ‘Sorry – discontinued, miss. ’

To be frank, I was an Urban Decay girl – yes, my style.

My liquid metal eyes were Kryptonite,

but they were stuck with Gotham soon – and what a bore!

Worse, though – if you can credit such a word –

imagine stoned lashes with no crystalline beads.

My face was honest now – and how I wish it lied!

I had an appointment yesterday at Bart’s.

The doctor, when he’d washed his hands,

had me sit down: ‘Things are looking bleak, ’ he said.

I asked him what his diagnosis was.

‘Age, ’ he told me. ‘You will be discontinued now –

and there is no replacement merchandise. ’