HAIRDRESSERS (poem)

As one so easily
bored by the world,
by each figure of speech,
and each civil gesture,
I can’t help but admire
their tireless devotion
to each “How are you?”
“Good, and yourself?”

I can’t help but
be taken aback
by their non-stop activity,
upbeat attitude
and enviable ability
to forget
or just simply dismiss
each passing second,
as if, with each snip,
those scissors are severing
not just a tuft,
but also their connection
to that intoxicating engine
of despondent self-reflection.

 

~

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