Skin Art

If I ever decide to redecorate
the birth-issue-fits-all-ages skin God gave me,
I’ll probably rip off two patches
of peel-n-stick blue sky, and
lay them over my dried-out hairy arms.

I have enough sun covering
the hills and valleys on my forehead—
ground cover that never needs mowing;
maybe, some moon-cream to moisturize,
and bring out a soft night luster.

I already plan to get an earring when I retire,
but, before that, I might steal two studs
from Orion’s belt, and brighten up my nipples.
I can hide those under my shirt.