Funny Nose Glasses and The Fake Mustaches

Cold breath. What else could I do

But watch the vapors rise?

I could complain.

OK. So I did that, too.

Because those funny nose-glasses

With the fake mustaches

Where no match

Not even narrow disguise

For the wing tipped edges

Of my flamboyant sentences

Which I grew to nary

Care to disguise.

And the beer

And the pills

And the paintings of a fall

And the lack of understanding in the many faces of it all

And my chartered trail
Starting at my sopping expectations
Ending at my many, many, many -ness and -ish endings.

(Eyes skyward and left)

The human being can be built to die hard

To explode

To collapse under its own weight

To ignore, or feed off of, the warning signs trained and ingrained

The human being can flip out its center, and wear its organs on the outside
All depending on mood

And I am no exception

And I am many moods

Which can flip, switch, mutate, or rotate

With no moment’s notice

And sometimes go unnoticed

Much to my outward relief

And inward resentment.

Then there are the friends

Who willingly take jokes

And sometimes when you’re the joke

It doesn’t even hurt

Sometimes the feathers are plucked near a sensitive node

And just like that

Defeating your appendages of flight

Silencing you in the wind

Re-birthing glimpses of a frightening absolution
Adjusting your posture by the threat of scandal

And Damn near clocking your lack of...

Whatever.

Have you battled something everyday?

Have you swept the sides of dirt roads?

Have you ignored yourself while patterns swelled?

Have I hair sprayed my thoughts in place? Have you tried washing them out?

Have you tried to rid the frizz and sulfur in such a humid place?

Have we crashed yet?
Can I open my eyes, now?

Sitting in your passenger seat, I used to subtly check your mirrors.

I’ve since surrendered.

I’ve thrown out the funny nose and fake mustaches.

If I survive this ride, I’ll have earned my next disguise.