This is very messy and it doesn’t know if it wants to be a poem or not. I’d like to maybe clean this up eventually but here it is now.
O’ tangled beard of nerdy guy
I mourn thy untimely shaving
thou were the envy of hobos, unibombers, & wookies.
ZZ Top are still raving!
Now trim, clean and proper, for employers most impressed
but lost the clarion call of ”I am probably a rapist.”
Thick and furry like the armpit of a biker
But who do you think you are now?
Captain William Thomas Riker?
Thou tangled bird nest strands was so good for stroking,
facilitating deep thought
a fine companion to a countenance wrought in contemplation
but more often a deep fart.
bits of last Tuesday’s filet o’ fish stored for today’s snack
stroke it fingers ’til entangled in it like a Chinese finger trap
Thou made my pubes green with envy
instead of the usual green with infection from yeast
Van Dyke, chin straps, goatees and mutton chops
soul patch, neck beards, The Village People’s cop
So incredibly furry; your mouth so hard to find
just like the asshole on my behind.
I need not shed a tear
for the beard is everywhere
I see it in that tortured strand of hair grasping for air from a blackened mole atop the very end of a witch’s nose.
I see it performing a backstroke in my clam chowder to say a friendly hello.
I see it clinging to the collective pile on the edge of a public urinal.
Long may you strewn, good beard.
Long may you strewn.