prim kilts hiked
who knows how high
or how
hair drifting feral
like nyads’

giddily seeking
they know not what
or how
casually engenues
in the scripts of their lives

younger and
more casual
than the artful blondes
we shall admire
later on the stage

in the wild
they rub
against trees and rocks

in captivity
we rub them with gasoline
singe off their beards
with blow torches

we like our hirsute
hairless
as those who have waxed or shaved or otherwise depilated
sensitive areas
can attest

driving on that
multi-lane highway
threading a needle
with flaming uranium