In the barbershop it’s hard to tell an argument
from a discussion. Men in the barber’s chair
tend to speak softly—especially if they’re
getting a shave. Those sitting in the chairs
along the walls waiting their turn for a cut
or a shave or both tend to speak loudly—
sometimes shouting. I’m in a chair, waiting
my turn for a cut. I’m listening, not talking.
The manicurist doing fingernails is in
conversation with a man getting his nails
trimmed and polished. It’s about what a mess
the world is in. The guy in Max’s chair says
life is unfair. Death. Destruction. Disease.
Viruses. He says the world is going to hell
in a handbasket. My professor in college said
people have always believed the world was
about to end. Sure, if you like metaphors, it
ends and starts every twenty-four hours again.
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