At the barber shop I watched
As the scissors snipped and groomed
The ego and the plume
Of the one sitting there
In the jacked up-chair.
A facial, mustache waxing
As well as a shampooing
Of the tresses
No, this not your usual misses,
It's one of those who has too much time to spend
And considers the barber, his special friend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem