adventures in dysthymia

Saturday, December 24, 2016

Haircut, a poem

Haircut

My hair is growing out
to the ‘head-banger’ lengths
I would shake back casually

(making sure you were watching)
when I was younger. Maybe
it doesn’t look that good on me,

really, but at sixty-six
I still have it all and as they say,
if you’ve got it, flaunt it.

I wonder if some ninety year old guy
will look at me and say,
‘Get a haircut, hippie.”

Stephen Brooke © 2016

Silly, I know, and only a few minutes work. I'm in  full novel-writing mode at the moment and not turning out much of anything else.

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