Ah, I knew about this a couple of days ago and got myself a head start.
Hair
As eunuchs praise the love they never had,
Bald as an egg, I sing my TRICHIAD.
The hair that gave the Spartan warriors power,
The hair Rapunzel tumbled from her tower,
The hair that sprouts unbidden under arms,
The hair that grows on masturbators' palms,
The buttered hair of the ferocious Tartars,
The holy hair of Jesus' Saints and Martyrs,
The raw, red hair of vagabonds and bad men,
The hair that grows beneath the skins of madmen,
The long, blonde, braided hair of New Age cuties,
The hobbit hair that turns their feet to bootees,
The hair the sirens combed upon the rocks,
The pallid, hairy legs of kilted Jocks,
The hair Porphyria's lover wound around
Her neck to murder her without a sound,
Crisp, curly hair Lord Byron mourned the loss of,
Heroic hair Delilah proved the boss of,
Soft hair hot walnut shells scoured from the thighs
Of Roman boys,or else Suetonius lies,
Harsh, hideous hair of devils, rank and rough,
Light lamplit hair on girlish arms... enough!
Though finer lines Tom Eliot never penned,
My TRICHOMANIA here must have an end.
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