Since we talked in the underpass about how to feel safe

and I impersonated the Hofmeister Bear

I've been doing him again, round the bedroom,

taking out the rubbish at night.

Not to big myself up, but I think I've mastered

the difference between teeter and swagger –

how to hold my arms banana-curved as if girthy with muscle,

invite air between my legs.

I bought a pork-pie hat –

a novelty one (but not hen-glittery)

and bear ears realistic enough. With them

I'm part me and part something else, like myth.

The Hofmeister Bear's T-shirt has his name on

which is foolish for babies and women

but I'm working up to the jacket, its yellow holler,

the neon flash of Follow The Bear

for when being followed means you're the boss.