“Here's My Passive Aggressive Ponytail."

Are you holding a knife
to stab the next person who insults
your fucking ponytail? Passive aggressive

stabbing out my eyes
like a truncheon
to my summer of love
aggression.

Ponytails might induce seizures, but you don't care,
because you've been growing out your hair
for your own reasons, for a decade or more.

Sure, sometimes you'll get pissed off and rip
some of your own hair out and fling it
in some woman's face or on her floor

or in her garbage can, but on the other hand,
I've grabbed a guy's giant pube off my bathroom floor,
stuck it in an envelope and repeatedly laughed.

It's not like a giant pube is like a truncheon
to my summer of love
aggression.

I’m growing out my hair because I’m too lazy to get a haircut.
My pubes have always been patchy like gerrymandered districts
that fail to meet emaciated expectations.

When you had the seizure over the phone it was like C-3PO
shutdown and it scared the living daylights out of my nocturnal
aye-aye senses. For about two weeks later,

I had panic attacks. Thought I might have another seizure,
thought I might fall down and shit my pants in public,
thought I might have a sudden heart attack and die.

About two weeks after my death, nobody would care
because so many people die every day, alone.
Alone, I don't care about changing my clothes every day,

but on the other hand, would I really be fine with dying
in boring pajama bottoms, an unshaved bush, and dirty
underwear? A baggy tee-shirt filled with dead b-cup boobs.

Juliet Cook is brimming with black, grey, silver, purple, and dark red explosions. She is drawn to poetry, abstract visual art, and other forms of expression. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications. You can find out more at www.JulietCook.weebly.com.

Charles Cicirella resides in Cleveland, Ohio. He does a radio show called RADIO ETHER that he posts online. ONWARD-FORWARD-INFINITE.