A Public Sphere for Poetry, Nature, and Politics
got the Sunday morning haircut at the neighborhood barber shop.talkin pittsburgh.weather.where you from and are your kids ok.the barber man speaks to the atmosphere of my heart and my eyelashes.he says.you’ve got a warm heart.i don’t know you,but i kin feel it. (i have been in this shop every month for my haircuts.) later.long lashes he says.looks nice.he gives an artful haircut.we hug as i leave.and then.he fckin bites.my.ear.tha fck.and keep yo mouth off of me! and what makes you think.that even if you want to.you should.that it iz right.welcome.or.how have you gone through 6 decades of life and not come to know.where your rights begin and end.i put hand sanitizer on my ear.i think about alla the girls and women i know who hold their tongues like anchors hold yachts.i think about alla the girls and women i know who never say the thing out loud.they take it into their souls and change the way they wear their clothes.keep their smiles under their arms.and tuck their voices in between their rib bones.(storing up for an eruption.)they.hold their eye contact against the breeze.just to keep safe. hiz mouth on my ear felt like a filthy corruption of my warm heart.i drove away. Then drove around the corner and went back in and i told him.never.never ever.do that again.and don’t take liberties with any other female in your barber’s chair.
Copyright 2016 Vanessa German.