Ashcan Royalty


Ashcan Royalty

The Old Duchess, 1905 George Luks (American, 1866–1933)
The Old Duchess, 1905
George Luks (American, 1866–1933)

I am Beauty shrouded in ugliness. A Harridan. Unkempt. Slovenly. Hair uncombed. I wander city streets like a Mumbling Chin Don. Buried in layers of over-sized clothing I am the Rag Pickers Son. Ambiguous. Gender-Neutral. Amorphous.

I pity the overly made up party girls snapping teeth and shredding claws fighting for yet fending off not so unwanted advances.

Androgyny is my protective cloak whilst favored neighbors enjoy early morn headboard banging sessions.

In life I am the Old Hag formerly a Duchess now a shapeless depraved harpy who wears multiple layers of petticoats, dresses and sweaters.

She of lost rank who has become maleficence incarnate. A Crone who struts like a Grande Dame puffing and swelling, whose very essence is an evil elixir that floods the streets and overflows the already befouled sewers.

HaGgard into the Mist


HaGgard into the Mist

Unkempt and Disheveled I emerge from my Hot shower looking like an African version of the Irish Banshee. If I stopped coloring my wild woolly riotous mane it’s changing vivid Red hues it would regress to its natural white state and along with accompanying screams from my arthritic joints I could become the daytime version of the Wailing Woman spirit. With every crack, creak, pop and snap of pain points in back, knees and ankles I shamble my way towards Cronehood. Aging rapidly before my time hobbling into the oncoming week which slams into me like a tractor trailer truck on a dark misty slick road. I’d do well as one of many Female apparitions in Shakespeare’s plays. Whose dreams shall I haunt tonight?

Kalahari-47-Anton-Crone-4