No, not that   dermatological office illustration
of magnified skin,   one thick hair emerging
through the top,   flaky layer of keratin,
but a simulacrum,   this painting of hay
stacked irregularity   and pink inflammation,
its title implying humor   for our shedding.
Fissures in pile-up,   the final straw,
let me infer psoriasis,   shown too close,
boxed for control,   like medication, although
anthropomorphizing   (maybe you do this),
I see two blocked   stalwarts, swathed
in gauze for protection.   They extend
bandaged hands, and   face to face, fist
to fist, make a connection,   almost as if
involved in their version   of Brancusi's Kiss.