Pan & Hiz Worms
I find myself a most vicious pan
After the god
And because it is
Forced upon me
The pretending of a man
I jauntily accept and even
Cherish the pretending
Because it feels
maybe,
close, slight
To recognition.
But I also
Work it out of my body
Like a worm
Because I know it’s not good for the health:
To be a man.
And yet I keep on pan
Pandering
de-worming
Pretending
Right on cue
Clockwork pomme
The finest refined actor,
Like many of us:
For all our lives.
But!
the deworming
Leaves a residue
A scent
My history is stained
With olfactory factories
Chugging out the truth
While the birds die.
And the gods to which i
Pander to
Know
That I ruse
I pretend
I hide some details
Here and there
And they peek out
Of my work pants
And plaid red shirt.
While I lay
very flat
Against the crotch of
my stiff cotton trousers.
I
Pan
Pandering
Pretending to be a man.
A Man.
