Sometimes I am sharp,
Prickly – disengaged from this
Engagement or that engagement
I adorn myself with a protective
Shell, a thick crust and a sign,
Marked “open” turned away from the door
Is this who I am?
I wonder, to myself, as I write.
Aren’t I more like that, the other
That person in gauzey pinks and
Mauves with little coins
Attached bouncing against each
Other making a tinkling song
Women undulate towards?
Yes, and no and maybe so
Sometimes I am sharp
Sometimes I am soft
Sometimes I wear coins-dangling
And sometimes I wear fuzzy blue slippers
Sometimes I want to be left alone
Sometimes I chant in enormous
Rooms filled with “out there” Mamas
And sometimes, I want to
Wear a blue suit and blend in
With the Janes and the Joes and
The Vast Unknowns
Just as you
May do
The Same
Thing, too
Or maybe not
I apologize
In advance
When my
Pricklyness
On occasion
Surprises
You
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