Yesterday, right after washing my hair, and applying a blowdryer...

After more than a year passed since I paid $35.00, when yours truly donated close to twelve inches of near shoulder length hair, and liberation (theology) immediately experienced, when fetish temporarily shorn (for the umpteenth time since donning so called hippie phase), which persisted more or less to the present day) after most recent decision to surrender not quite golden locks willfully encountered (Billy me) snapping shears hungrily eyed field day, and when lathering up shorter doo necessitated less shampoo, and also took mere minutes to dry shaking my head in a jiffy, which by the way entails three shakes of a dead lamb's tail according to Stan Laurel (born Arthur Stanley Jefferson; 1890–1965) an English comic actor, writer, and director, best known as the "Stan" half of the legendary comedy duo Laurel and Hardy.

Yesterday, right after washing my hair, and applying a blowdryer...

I espied a fumfering androgynous
reflection in the mirror,
especially as these lovely
not quite golden locks - no liar
here, but a baby boomer sporting tresses
despite being mistaken for a girl,
what with slender body,
that long since went to pot
cue a noticeable paunch definitely visible,
when taking a shower
whereat I wanna close my eyes
displacing where six pack used to be,
and whose said trademark mane characteristic
grew out of protestation
when I strongly evinced reaction
against parent's stern rebuke
to yield and get a buzzcut
admonition against getting clipped
to elicit conservative impression
versus putting up a fight,
which (after dad and mom grudgingly relented)
unbeknownst to them,
that years later
physical appearance of mine
would be a major deterrent
particularly against acquiring
and to a lesser degree
maintaining gainful employment)
resulted guarding image of nonconformity
exemplified courtesy longish
wavy brown shoulder length hair
(interspersed with gray strands),
a grateful dead giveaway,
when friends, Romans, and countrymen
made reference to yours truly
as the quiet and meek as a mouse guy
since figurative segway
and eventual emotional foray
into a tragi-comic opera,
(especially omnipresent when he pledged troth
and fathered – in sync with the mother
of their deux daughters),
but lemme back track to post adolescence,
whence writer of these words evolved
only recently emerging out of adulthood
mainly on account viz lovely bones,
whose frontal/ dorsal view
still presents feminine physique,
(albeit one decked out like a doyenne),
yet never throughout mein kampf
of sixty six years did
yours truly experience
gender dysphoria, although
heading and shouldering
long torrential surge
of testosterone analogous
to raging bit torrent,
where masturbation a poor substitute
less apt to appease sexual desire,
which present day libido
took kamikaze nose dive
but once upon a time
surging hormonal secretion
considerably less apropos of a eunuch,
(which describes current state
of horniness coursing
thru body electric of mine to date),
especially since taking
ten prescription medications
for social general anxiety,
dysthymia, obsessive/compulsive behavior,
and palmar hyperhidrosis
latent while in utero unbeknownst to thy
late mother, when she happened
to be gravid with offspring
number two and sole male progeny
approximately eight hundred
plus eleven months ago,
which bouncing baby
boy, whose innocent naiveté
engendered scapegoat role,
which reputation as being
submissive and weak landed
him smack dab in the crosshairs
of bullies who targeted
said lad with verbal
brickbats and threatening nonverbal
fisticuffs, whereby onslaught
of unpleasant pugnacious
taunts found introverted,
docile diminutive sized passive-
aggressive signals, whose body language
analogous to an impotent telegram,
nevertheless spoke silent volumes against madd
(Mixed Anxiety-Depressive Disorder)
riddled youngster of pun hushing jokester -
namely the writer of these words,
who ofttimes recounted
an academically, emotionally
and socially troubled youth
just getting promoted
by the skin of my teeth hence false
teeth issued initially
courtesy University of Pennsylvania
Dental School and second set
made more recently courtesy Liberty
Dental address: 300 Schuylkill Road,
Phoenixville, Pennsylvania 19460,
yet dental implants NOT an option
available because periodontal disease
wrought extensive bone loss
when fresh out
of my late teens and early twenties
quickly progressing in severity
possibly linkedin to maxillofacial trauma
induced courtesy associated
undergoing orthodontics twice
(compounded by maxillary osteotomy,
a surgical procedure that
involves cutting and
repositioning the upper jaw (maxilla)
to correct alignment issues
with teeth and face disallowing
the option (later in life)
for dental implants, which private
insurance, nor rich Uncle Sam
would pay for leaving me
with the sole remaining option
to get fitted for snug as a
bug in a rug dentures,
whereat the lower set wiggle and
wobble due to the presence
of significant bone loss,
hence sometimes girl scouts honor,
I nearly swallow them after the tenuous bond
courtesy dental adhesive agent loosened
when eating gooey, chewy foods
making dentures going cock eye Louie.