Zeitgeist Hair

Sweaty twenty-something
punk meets art nouveau –
in and out of a transgressive bed –

the site of the enactment
of erotically perverse proclivities
better left unsaid;

but wait: the artful mussed-and-wild
bespeaks, as well, the child,
rubbing puffy eyes –

up from a nap –
reluctantly pulled off
a warm and musky lap;

and there’s the beast one sees
(one hopes, sans fleas),
nuzzling, grizzled, fuzzy,

disingenuously unconcerned
with its rough fur,
abruptly teased;

and most of all
the scary imminence of childhood’s
fall: invoking sexy adolescent mess

whose ruse of randomness
consists in the deployment
of a mousse.

Voluptuously,
slyly
loose.

.