Habemus Papam
Habemus Papam
A long, steep road- life time for some- and
tired I paused outside a shop selling wigs
I didn´t go in, but its owner came out, handed
for a beautiful hairpiece for frosty weather.
I looked ten years younger, ambled with firm
steps to the town´s plaza and seen by adoring
women, wore sunglasses to hide my celebrity.
A gust of wind my wig flew off, landed on top
of a street lamp its light came on even though
it was in the middle of the day and austerity.
A chorus of unseen singers sang: Baldy, baldy,
baldy, my vanity vanished as morning mist.
“Why are you bald?” six year old girl asked.
“I was a seal suffering from hydrophobia and
could not jump up in the air and look cute.”
In a Chinese shop I bought a red hat, citizens
gaped at me with awe, and whispered is he our
new papa?
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