Short Follicle Poems

kill spider great shore read option
host gross might hold follicle
name demon friend pelican rose...

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I'm sitting here in despair,
I used to have so much hair,
At least I've still got a grin,
Perhaps I'll have a lottery win
And get a follicle transplant to repair....

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I can feel your breath,
dance on peach fuzz,
honeysuckle smoke,
whispers in my lung,
every follicle tuned, 
we are two of one,
quietly a buzz,
bucolic beds state,
unassuming,
the hours. Delicate....

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There once was a beautiful black hair strand named Maud.
She went out with a French follicle name of Claud.
They climbed on a gray head,
With a dandruff=filled shed,
And decided their impromptu date was a fraud....

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Visibly bald from losing his hair,
lucky uncle explores healthy fare. 

Fresh veggies constrain follicle halt, 
fixing a maturing hairline’s fault.

Vainly Uncle George emits forced yawns 
glibly disarmed as new girlfriend fawns.

April 30, 2020

Contest:  Couplet
Sponsor: Dear Heart...

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Oh, I am so angered, outraged and appalled
I think that I’m going bald
My dad had great hair
So I never really cared
But, to the hair club for men I am called

From my butt, they could extract some hair
Because I think I have so much to spare
But I cannot tell
Do you think it would smell?
Oh well I think, I’ll just leave it there...

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He now says goodbye to his trusted friends
So much missed now, as their time ends  

Their road together had its ups and downs
A visual spectrum, from dapper to clowns

Though he fought to keep them from going astray
A stubborn few had to go there own way

He tried to stall their leaving, to no avail
With those left remaining their pallor a tale

A natural departure, not diabolical 
He misses each one, every fallen follicle!...

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The past lingers in your body.
The twinkle has faded along with
the color, the skin has sallowed.
The enamel and follicle begin to wear away,
becoming smooth like the age-old rock in the sand.
Tears have fallen less salty but more meaningfully.
They answer the questions certainly, wisely,
discarding the snake-skin of yesterday -

though it ceases to exist in living tissue,
it survives in the earth -
from the excrement of
your animal totem....

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Blackened tendrils take the trees,
Take the skin by follicle,
Empty matter, pushed debris,
Pressed and parabolical. 

Zephyrus claims, lack of choice,
Echoes through the aether,
Chaos calms his quiet voice,
To suffer with the weather. 

Windows shutter, clap in tune,
Aeolus purring bag and pipe,
Uilleann iron, aural rune,
Despite aptitude and gripe.

Nonetheless the Iris slims,
To folded air in lack of light,
Cluttered ever in the whims,
To that which chances sight....

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