"For the Fuzz" Poem by Daniel Ari, illustrated by free radical

For the fuzz 

by Daniel Ari
illustrated by David Fleischmann, the free radical

Now that it’s refused me, I’ll refuse hair.

That’s how I decided twelve years ago

to strip my head razor-clear and take air,

snow and sight without the diplomacy

of coiffure. Know my mind, world. It is here.

Since the divorce, my do has kept a low

profile, though I spot it on the fringes

at times. It has never regained the glow

it had when my follicles were engines,

the sex machines of our honeymoon years.

Now, Fine Gray Fuzz, I sometimes get twinges

when I see some full-headed guy, recall

you at Burning Man, my shock of orange.

At 22, we pulled a ponytail.

How could I ever have cursed you, Jewfro?

I was young and could complain my gall out

without recognizing there’d be fall out.

For the Fuzz