"This melancholy London - I sometimes imagine that the souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually. One feels them passing like a whiff of air. - W. B. Yeats

Monday, October 11, 2010

To Balding Men

Live while you're young
and charming-
in your good looks
and striking eyes.
Fuck a lot, and drink a lot.

Because you've seen
the future
in the shining heads
of your bald dads-
those crystal balls do not lie.

And once those long locks
are no more
no amount of stylish shoes,
or expensive cars,
watches, ties, or briefcases
will save you
your middle-aged
thinning terror.

So decide-
to side part or not?
to crew cut or not?
toupee or not toupee.

Or,
make the bold decision
and lather up like a
foamy frosted cupcake

and shave it all off

and be like the happy old men
before you
like the ones at bus stops, or diners,
who drink black coffee with three sweet-and-lows
and smile in nostalgic lechery
at the young girls
going by in denim shorts.

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