Grey hairs flow like spilt diesel in the rain
Weaving through the flames of autumn
Thinning out like the dying leaves
Clogging up the flooded gutter
As my new barber clip clips away
Hair swaying to the chess board linoleum
Old men wait their turns
People watching out the window
Reflected in the wall length mirror
A dying town outside
Sinking in the shade of nearby cities.
Gentlemen portraits line the pale blue walls
Out of date magazines fall to the floor
My barber wears baggy dungarees
A Levi’s jeans t-shirt
A tweed jacket hangs from the hat stand
I don’t like small talk, she understands
But, y’know, work’s okay, it’s a beautiful day
My holidays are booked to New York City.
My hair went uncut for nigh on twenty five years
Long and fiery
Hiding behind it
A young man with sleek cheekbones
Pixie ears and stone cold blue eyes.
Subsequent haircuts?
I’ve looked like a jealous monk, a flunky
A lonely hipster, a dipstick
A chick magnet, Stig of the dump
A sozzled whiskey distiller, a serial killer
A clean-cut kid, a terrorist hostage
A second-division footballer, a doo-wop singer
Hot shot
Big shot
Mug shot
A tall shot of something or other
Guy Fawkes, Porky Pig, Stephen Hawking
Sasquatch on a walking holiday
A hodgepodge of man and orangutan
But haven’t we all?
Gary Bunting
Gary Bunting is from Yorkshire and has recently been featured in Bent Key's 'Ey Up Again' anthology. He's also one of the writers at Hello America Stereo Cassette. His current obsession is photographing numbers.
Comments