The Barber
by Doug Holder
February 7, 2008 — Published in Verse
And his
Razor
Traversed the
Stubby topography
Of my neck.
And his scissors’
Sharp edges
Brushed my
Vulnerable
And pulsing temples.
I wondered
What if he is
A mad man?
A man
With some
Unfathomable grudge,
Some savage bloodlust
And then that discrete thrust…
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