Identity

like an ugly scarf
that you received as a gift
and feel obliged to wear

wear the dad hat
wear the missionary love making birthday suit
wear the dog collar for the full on sexcapades
wear the wacky co-worker joy buzzer
wear the kid gloves
wear the shoulder pads to cry on
wear the poetry pants
wear the Mr. Green Jeans of the friendly neighbour

if you are given a gun and camouflage
does that make you a soldier?
does that make you a willing participant?
does that make you the enemy?

the tickle trunk of imagination
Norman Bates dressed up as his mom
serial killers dressed up like clowns
George W. Bush dressed up like the president

a caterpillar
wrapped up in the cocoon
of Wittgenstein’s family resemblance
there emerges a butterfly
a thousand shades of blue and brown

I think therefore I am what?
just thinking?
maybe no more special
than a muscle flexing?

you adjust yourself in the mirror
and walk out into the world
and pretend to be
yourself
and you accept it
like you accept breathing.

© Christian McPherson