The sun comes up and Kruq gets out of bed,
Bathes, breakfasts, clothes,
Picks out every hair that goes on her head.

Every morning ever the first is a fox tail,
Whether a swamp weed tuft
Or the clever, toothy one’s fluff,
It’s the first without fail.

Then she begins to choose –
Perhaps an illegal eagle plume
Or a couple from a peacock.
A handful of straw from a cobwebby old broom?
An always on the hour
Long hand of a clock?
Of course, she must have her flowers
For a bootful bee filled bouquet of bangs.
Sometimes an old TV antenna hangs.
She has a fondness for eels,
Though more so for people’s squeals
When they realize that they’re real.

She’s been collecting for years
And is now at work on a beard,
So if you see something good
Please mail it here.

Kruq could write books on looks
And every one of them would begin and end with the lines:
“Fashion’s about your likes,
Don’t get fooled by your minds.”


Drawn by Sparkpuppy.