Hatman on Parade

This is not my hair,
(no, no)
this is not a wig,
(oh no) me in a hat.

I said,
me in a hat.

And photoshopped?
No!
But then
(think again)
 - yes -
'cause an iPhone
done did it:

captured
me in a hat.

And
is that light blue?
(yes!)

Yes, it's real blue,
and I stare at it
all-l-l day-y-y....

WAIT!

Okay,
sometimes
in the...

Mo-ho-ho-horning.

cyclic

 

The Ides of March?

F*ck that. 

How ‘bout the bone crackling,

marrow sucking,

life stealing cold

of January

that

puts on your skin

like a suit,

and shambles forth

with a peritoneum puckering,

rictus grin;

now
you’re inhabited 

by

this other

(something like yourself 

but not)

and...

you like it. 

Cuneiform

secret meanings
seen

in
coffee
spilled,

dried ketchup,

and reflected light...

Here's

some words

to fill

the

space
in         your        head