almost cut my hair

for my first

real job i had to get a hair cut.

i'd let grow

long

in protest to

the vietnam war,

and nixon.

which seems ridiculous now.

it was down to my shoulders

and parted

in the middle.

a pretend hippy

at the end of the hippy era.

it was a lot of work,

washing it,

blow drying,

combing and brushing,

but girls seemed

to like it.

the barbers gathered

around my chair

as the barber

took out his long scissors

and joyfully cut

it off.

it was a relief though

i thought

as the long locks fell

to the floor.

it wasn't me.