25 Jul Back 40: Gone Fishin’

Not the elevating
reclining styling chair,
not the head tilt
shampoo bowl,
alien helmet
salon perm dryer.
No flat irons
or curlers.
No skin care trolley,
body wax kit,
over-the-top spa
towel warmer.
No pedicure/manicure
massage table.
No cushy floor mat
and nope to
any gum chewing
reception desk!

Ah, but hair,
burly whiskers,
legions of each,
rush a moment’s rest
dusting necks,
snapping more
from silk sheets.
It piles up
on scuffed-bare tiles,
circles the seeping
hydraulic stump
of a legendary landmarked
barber’s chair.

A door swings shut, locks.
Ribbons around a pole
wind up for the night.
A piece of cardboard
proclaims: “Gone Fishin’”
see-sawing on white string.