NOT ART YET...
A NEW PERSPECTIVE
Who dreamed? Who knew?
A new perspective now
As looking down, I know
The shock of sudden revelation:
How much male pattern baldness means to me,
May always mean hereafter:
This male, and now
This pattern, now
This baldness.
That spot right there,
This spot right here,
Not very big at all, indeed
Just large enough to show.
The salt-and-pepper brushcut
Thins to show a scrap of scalp, of skin.
Suddenly loveable,
Suddenly kissable,
Its clear and present danger,
A tenderness so far unseen,
Suddenly hitting my heart-strings.
Weakness and age,
Held otherwise at bay at every point,
Here stake their claim and due,
Give me in turn a clearer sense,
Myself now tender, and at once
In clear and present danger.
Bending down,
New motion, too, for me,
I find that I just reach it with my lips,
Can kiss it once, again.
Again.
This baldness.
This pattern.
This male.
Who dreamed?
Who knew?
.
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