Pubic Hair and the Grand Scheme of Things

What ever happened to hairy pubes?      
Feeling into the forest floor breaking through the bush into the fleshy overgrowth.      
I peek my head through the blossoming spring forest greenery and catch my mane in the leaves of the bush,      
so as my face buries itself into the underground, the leaves tease my chin.      
What happened to hairy pubes?      
I saw a naked cat with cracked skin walk on the naked floor of the ever-changing earth that from now to eternity every day
was re-polished by the biting sunlight that worlds spiral towards at times of mass-extinction.      
This earth wanted this cat, and this cat wanted this earth      
to be utter imitations of marble imitations        
(some extinctions are figurative).    
       
Sometimes urbanization has its mistakes- a cut every now and then, bleeding on the concrete,      
the need for more supplies to help subside the dryness and irritation of rejection of natural course and comfortability with one's current body.      
What happened to pubic hair?      
The lion and his mane? The forest and her bush?      
Enter Urbanization      
through the door of the bedroom,      
and human lovemaking is advertisement for new products that change the lovemaking to be better consumer        
of the urban hemlock that is only cured by more hemlock until    
the feeling finally and ultimately involutes in its fragility.