Goleta, CA

I have great nose hair,
a dense jungle
My nose hair fascinated my ex-

She once made braids
A weave in each nostril
“Pig tails” she exclaimed, “they’re so delightful!”

Grossness is next to godliness
Grossness – like all things – is relative

My shits? Analyzed!

Their smell
Their size
Their color

Notes taken, organized, then disseminated
amongst her colleagues in the biology department at the University

My shits could very well be published in a scientific journal somewhere, some way
My hands? Calloused from a steady dose of landscaping work and drumming

“Animal,” she called me
She’d show them off to her friends,
“Look at these hands! These are the hands of an animal!!”

A razor didn’t meet my face for months
Neander-enthralled was she!!!

Next thing you know she’s hanging around Scientologists, sippin’ ‘pagne

“Gross!” said I

[Left] she did


Prewitt Scott-Jackson writes prose poetry & small fiction. Prewitt prefers *short* walks on the beach because, and I quote, “It’s really hard to walk on sand.” Find more words & blarney from PSJ on the interweb superhighway at allsalinitylost.com