a little off the top

seems like you're having a mid
life crisis,
my mentor Antonio, my hairstylist,
says. he sees the sad look on my face,
my shoulders hunched.

what's a matter you?
where's my boy?
you just a be going through some
problems, he says, waving his scissors around
in one hand
and a comb in the other.

ah, don't a worry about so much.
women.
pfft. they come, they go.
they're like cats, where can't you
find another cat?

most of the misery and mistakes I've
made in my life
is because of women, I tell
him, while itching my neck
and looking at myself in the big mirror.

he sighs, snipping away at my long
curly locks.

be happy alone, he says, nodding his
head.
be happy alone and then the right one
will appear.

when you get happy alone, tell me.
my sister has a friend. mamma mia.
her name is Victoria.
she's a widow, kids are grown, she
has her own money, her own house.

she has the heart of a saint.
her lasagna alone is enough
to fall in love with her.
I tell her about you. but like I said.
get happy, get healthy, then you
can meet her.

okay. great, I tell him.
just a little off the top,
and trim the eyebrows.