Medusa And Other Angels MAG

By Unknown, Unknown, Unknown

   There ain't a cross

big enough to bare

the burden of my hair.

This weedy garden

of moss and dandelions

sometimes falling down

and around my face

like a halo of onyx stones

or a crown of thorns.

My hair is so alive

you won't find it in the Louvre.

I let it sleep under my hat

until my museum opens up.

The Museum of Natural History

then it runs wild like Medusa

through its halls.

My hair tells tall tales.

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