S.S. Haircut

This poem seemed relevant today, confronted with current events. Let me know your thoughts.

Yard Sale of Thoughts

Recent current events in Germany being what they are, this poem decided it would like to resurface and walk about a bit as we discuss issues of freedom, individual liberty, and choice vs. solidarity. Our safety and our responsibilities as citizens on this planet, but also the liberties we have struggled to gain for ourselves as individuals. Our pasts should be remembered, certainly, as a warning of what could easily be our futures. I’d love to hear your thoughts on all of this.


They opened up the parlors.
We can’t work with angry hair.
Barber dryer,
tendriled wires,
German chatter,
electric glamour.
Hair like soil from high boots;
the massacre of dead ends,
piled on the tiled floor
after months of skin and dust.

Today, there’s the fluttering
cushioned carousel chair,
my son’s body diffusing,
curled into twirling leather,
amid pandemic blether.
Gleeful in his last moments
of unruly hair.

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