A Safe Grooming

Here

            here

      and here

lies the fear:
life is not supposedly lived,
hiding scars
under pleated cotton.

A safe grooming
                forgives silence,
make up the morning
                with a toned smile,
      silent
to the emotional world.

Hot trouble
             talks in blues,
the rat’s ass given to the tone.

Bake your façades
and pretty conceits
in the oven of respectability,
             sucked orifice
             pouting out from
             elder expectation.

A Safe Grooming

Kneel to the world
in your stations of survival
                until you return foetal
                buried under swaddling bands.

                They burnt the crib
                then made you lie in the desert.