marvelous
and revealing
are my outgrowths
every nail on my picking hand
agrees with me
that they should stay long and clean
and my fretting hand’s nails
submit to the clippers
as if they were tiny monks
shorn close for discipline’s sake
but every hair on my head
is unlawful as they come
shouting at odd angles
“what you got for me
bring it dog and
i’ll fuck you up”
i offer the work of
my soft hands
self-righteously in public
as my head offers
evidence that while
what i claim to honor
is careful utility
not so secretly
i greatly admire the loose insanity
on my dear old
rat coated head
because i can tell myself
that it reminds you all
that atop this artist
lives the devil himself
Dark Matter 
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