The Bachelor’s Arcana: Theatrics

Half the pleasure of disguise is finding oneself 
recognized, known not only for the shape assumed 
to suit a particular masquerade but also
for the untold fittings, auditions, rehearsals, 
and touch-ups the latest ensemble betrays.

In his harlequin hostess he glimpses the girl
who prowled the wings of the Jellicle Ball, who scarred 
a Phantom, tusked a Beast, and gartered Dr. Scott,
who colored, braided, and moussed her share of periwigs, 
pigtails, mohawks, and manes. In his Death’s head she senses

the boy emboldened by Halloweens past, the one
who balked at store-bought makeup kits and plastic cartoon 
coveralls and instead groomed his own lamb’s wool fur,
rolled homemade cheese-wax fangs, and sealed his nostrils shut 
with spirit gum at the height of his Lon Chaney phase.

Behind their disguises they recognize something more 
indicative than skin, a string of fine distinctions:
the difference between being known and exposed, 
between clothing and costumes, between belongings 
and props, between masks and the shadows masks cast.

Read more from Issue 15.1.