Manscape

Now we’re inside the hat trickWhat? You say I’m stuck up a magician’s sweaty sleeve, packed with flowers, a bunny, and silk?
I thought a hat trick was in sports.Performing the nifty magic of being a man — are those roses or a crown of thorns? A fancy red hanky or was I coughing up blood? Is that my lucky rabbit’s foot or road-kill?
Three wickets, three goals, three strikes.Maybe I’m a fire-eater, but you wanted a mind-reader.
What on earth is a wicket?If I hold out a rope to the audience, slit its bight, do I slip the noose?
And why are they sticky?Ouch, I cut to the high card, it’s a suicide king.
This is mixing metaphors.Magician’s rent their doves. I thought you needed to know that.
I am confused.Yes, that is the trick.
What is the narrative?Let’s do the escape thing at the bottom of a tank of water. Or Everclear.
How does this tell us about men?Dressed in my best flak jacket tuxedo. Either I undo the shackles or drown.

The Sunday Muse

11 thoughts on “Manscape

  1. thinking about one bourbon, one scotch, and one beer. and the time I saw George Thorogood open for J Geils and the Stones at Candlestick Park, in the rain in 1981, and he blew them the F out of the stadium. that was a manscape for ya.

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