If I’m not a consumer what am I?

A little pleasantry on a growing-up catching some age.

! Age doubting?

! A future reality game?

I’m already a practitioner, yes.

Who’s that guy winking at me every morning

to comfort

after the face stretching?

Imagine my terrified look

with the din of the collapsing

cheval glass.

Mine- or

it’s mirror’s end?

What’s a mirror’s gender?

Observing myself in

shop windows, glass walls,

confounding

posture with pose I am,

while readjusting curved shoulders,

measuring the width of my reflection.

Today’s assignment:

Watch your growing ears!

Yesterday I sliced the lobe

to kill a fast growing hair

that was not there

the day before I assure you!

Only ONE:

Ear    HAIR

What’s the First- Sur-

name?

Science didn’t even give it a proper

name!

A mustache has a whisker.

My ear has just a hair.

My twin brother looking at me

launches:

! Come back tomorrow?

! Same time Same place!

We’ll do the nose check!

I’m definitely a consumer.