Poem By Sam Riviere

When I'm feeling unsure or upset
I get drunk and give myself a haircut
after midnight in poor light
with the smallest mirror I can come by
because the decisions I make
when cutting my hair are the same
as the decisions I make in my life or writing
only quicker snip snip snip I hardly think
just keep going till it looks about even
and I find myself pulling a long lock
from the crown or over the ear
and I don't want to cut it
so long as it's there the job isn't done
and that's how I find the weak spot
in my mind something like a stain or a storm
on the heart a cloud that comes over
blanking one eye because
in the run of this hour
one long strand of hair
doesn't have any right or reason to be here
doesn't make any sense but
I'm not going to cut it just yet

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