Here again, head spinning in a mire of slop;
gleaned from the rash of a dizzying nocturn
from one corner to another in the dim Baltimore hours.

Music, though I missed the show.
Dinner, though I bungled the meal.
Company, though she spared me no glance.
Elegance, though my dress laid threadbare.

I seem to make no impression on people,
or too many, such that the noise surrounds me
as a chrysalis that I peer through.

My guarded zone, occasionally broken
by piercing stabs of aggression,
chiseled to seem cute, cut and dry
from all angles besides the one I embody.

"I'm unused to being naked in a bar",
I explained to the lady who I'd soon learn had my sister's name,
easy enough to be pleased that I shared the couch beside her,
and as anyone, concerned for my seeming mis-composure.

In the moments prior,
I'd lost my seat on the first bench
as a bearded jack-off leaned in for his "wild proposal",
one which I had made no indication of agreeing to.
Silence seems to be heard as acquiescence.

In the moments prior,
I had explained to the first person to ask "are you okay" -
"no, I don't need water. I'm meditating.
They do call this trance music, you know."

Prior to the bar, I'd been on the curb -
spinning the bo (pole) as I'd learned through many bruises,
in parades and musical gatherings,
and in Aikido dojos for years prior.
I had seen a musician I recognized,
who had seemed busy smoking,
and guessing she headed into the bar,
I headed back to my car for the purse;
My skirt had no pockets for my card clip,
and I find the purse a problem in the flow of the bo.

Prior to pulling the bo from my car,
I had to park it at the hackerspace,
in the alley, for enough charge to finish cooking dinner.
I had a larger meal than normal,
on batteries that carry less charge,
now that they've gone through the mechanic's shop
for a couple of unplanned and unchaperoned weeks.

Prior to parking the car,
which is more of a large camper conversion,
I'd been parked on the curb near the bars.
I'd hoped to share the dinner with others around,
though when the inverter begins beeping,
and the cooktop surrenders inside of 30 seconds,
I'd decided to surrender those plans also.
Simpler near the hackerspace,
an extension cord run under the door to the parking lot.

And I'd done this earlier in the day,
at the hackerspace of course,
prior to my shopping for groceries and skirts.
I'd been charging the batteries as much as possible,
as I showered and cleaned and organized the dishes -
some aside for cleaning in the days ahead,
some disposable ones on hand for dispensation.

Once I finally found the skirts I needed,
and the food supplies I'd been ignoring
on these recent cloudy days,
as my fridge demanded hours off...
I parked before I reached the bars,
and the final location for Baltimore's Pride month,
to dress up in my shibari harness.