Out Like a Lamb

Waxed

Still hippie at heart, I've kept a wild winter pelt
soft and long and thick. I'm just a hairy schmo...
legs hidden by my jeans, or tights and belt,
hair deemed uncouth and somehow gross to grow

When comes the spring, a beach vacation looms
and so I sigh and schedule torture time
the spa cuts hair, or plucks the brow, or grooms
I wait among the pretty in their prime...

Waxed! I shine like silk and, pale, emerge
in pain and reddened, ripped, into the rain
as back inside they mock and scoff and purge.
My last laugh echoes, tho; I clogged their drain!



note ▼

April 4—Personal grooming…