From the 2003 edition of The Muse: Striptease
Standing in your attire
like a bird,
you’ve preened your plumage,
a perfect beauty for all to see.
but nothing comes of false feathers.
free your hair from bonds
of gel and spray, from sculptures
made for mass approval.
let each strand waywardly wander
whenever it feels fit.
scrape away the paints,
dyes, glosses, and polishes
you see so fit to prime
each year, with fresh coats and colors
from cuticle to follicle,
from chin to cheek.
remove the cloth that covers
for it’s woven from assumptions,
and whispers false fancies
in other men’s minds.
show truth barenaked
on an empty stage.
Jeremiah Oehlerich