Of death
the barber
the barber
talked to mecutting my
life with
sleep to trim
my hair—It’s just
a moment
he said, we die
every night—And of
the newest
ways to grow
hair onbald death—
I told him
of the quartz
lampand of old men
with third
sets of teeth
to the cueof an old man
who said
at the door—
Sunshine today!for which
death shaves
him twice
a week
the barber
the barber
talked to mecutting my
life with
sleep to trim
my hair—It’s just
a moment
he said, we die
every night—And of
the newest
ways to grow
hair onbald death—
I told him
of the quartz
lampand of old men
with third
sets of teeth
to the cueof an old man
who said
at the door—
Sunshine today!for which
death shaves
him twice
a week
