I could only hope to scare you

Dear shocked on-looker,

I could only hope I scare you.
That my appearance you find shocking.
Because what you know as safe routine is my
Hammer and guillotine.
You double-taked and in a quake
Your manners shook lose.
In Florida we're known to wear bright colors
But you think I'm pushing it.
I even seem to enjoy the derangement set in my face.
Is that what scares you? What aches and spares
You a little less of a man?

I could only hope that you fear what's going on
In my head. Is it murderous or do I fancy wearing a dress?
Just horrible either way.

Like the demons in your book, I'm clutching your small box of out-dated morals in my claws when I move with my convictions. The nerve of thinking, questioning of tradition….


Or maybe you'll worry about my influence on your children.
Still young and indifferent, they might take my ideas for rent. A whole army of your children backing the devil wearing tight pants and spinning brash dance moves in delight. The madness! Free to your own thoughts? To make mistakes and grow? Not in my day.


Sir, I can only hope as you're lying in bed tonight and the weather outside is shifting, you'll be fighting unwelcome ideas through dreams and you're wondering what it's like to be crazy like me.

- Jose