Haircut

There are two great pleasures to be had
From getting your hair cut in a foreign tongue.
It obviates the need for barber’s small talk,
The shavings of conversation trimmed yet another
Way; and it leaves the barber with no choice
But to treat the scalp you offer as blank canvas.
Thereby eradicating the responsibility you feel
When asked what you’d like to live with
On the surface of your dome until the next time
You’re forced to confront

The savagery of the shears.

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