The Cut

21 Jan
She was thirty-three 
with long feathery black and red-dyed hair
rail-thin with a long nose
my hairstylist 
used to be called a barber

often, you get a five-minute quicky
astounded why it now costs twenty bucks
tip not included 

- but
she took her time
talked about her five kids - clip clip snip
her mom isn't exasperated by her anymore - comb clip
or her two-month separation
from a second husband with issues - clip snip clip
her ulcerative colitis

she eats and goes often - faster snips
(the excessive combing is scraping my scalp to shreds)
she passed out at work last week
not sleeping and eating tons of ramen noodles - comb comb
snip clip snip - sniff

Now I'm as old as dirt - 
probably older than her father
but worked up the pluck to offer her my number
she refused it politely -- 

thanked me for the compliment
(the noise of my head being vacuumed)
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Posted by on January 21, 2022 in Poetry


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