I get my haircut every three months or so
and if you're a poetic type
you might call my sensibility seasonal
but if you're a haircutter
there's not as much poetry
just clean lines and the same old story
a bunch of fools in lust
with the feel of your hands
as they try to staunch the flow of time
turn back the inevitability of hair growth
and spin your silver into gold
and your gold into fuchsia
because their philosopher's stone
came from Hot Topic
and it has powers that leave alchemists
scratching their bald heads
heads that think they're so smart
they've outgrown the need for hair
and that might be true
but they haven't outgrown
the need for haircutters
for this subset of the human species
with purple streaks in its hair
that asks you existential questions
about how you want to look
and who you want to be
and expects you to know the answers
because they've got it figured out
and even if they don't
they're always ready to change
to shave it all off
and grow into something new
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