Saturday, May 13, 2017

Stuart Rawlinson #30 - Hairdressing

The click and tinkle of
Scissors, long-bladed and
Sterile like a
Surgeon’s scalpel
Slicing at straws

The shaver, at a frequency
Of the safest sleep
Hums
Hypnotises
Tickles my nape

Head tilted in a reverse
Dive into the strange sink
Flooding furrows
Fragrant seed
Washed away

A hot towel holds
Relief, water carrier
Aquarius
First calibrates, then
Administers sleep

4 comments:



  1. Upon the newly-shaven skin it made a livid mark -
    No doubt it fairly took him in - the man from Ironbark.

    ReplyDelete

  2. Short back & sides
    Leave the rest
    Four chairs, no waiting
    The razor stops the bleeding
    A car stops the traffic
    The garbage stops the river
    And I open the encyclopedia
    To get lost in the Barbary Coast
    Such an educated barber

    ReplyDelete
  3. Nice poem. The soporifics of that process. Lord. In China she did it different.

    ReplyDelete

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