regular men's haircut.

that's right.
a regular men's haircut.
gray hairs a-flowing like lightning strikes
on the sides of my skull and everything.
and a spring-appropriate mid-length beard?
oh yes.
connecticut is on the menu, ninjas.
another kryptonite strength-sapper,
and this time,
with added handsome.
believe it.
in fact, here's photgraphic proof:

this is the just-out-of-bed amendment shot, neighbors.
if morrissey and skunk ape had a baby, right?
totally.
is it just me or does shorter hair make my big italian schnozz look bigger?
that's just great.
as a point of historical interest,
the last proper over-and-around-the-ears snipfest
i received was very nearly eleven years ago.
c'mon.
that's how Folk Life warrior poet barbarians get down, duders.
resisting the urge to beat nature down with scissors.
big beards and flouncy fluffed out fronds of fur, yeah?
sure,
until they get summoned to the nutmeg nancyness;
on official business, i mean.
yes, kids-
it's due to be even less fun and/or games in my home state
during this trip down to the dregs of the waterbaby world.
just sayin',
the drastic plastic caustic congestion of connecticut can't compete
with mountain air,
spring thaw river rapids,
green spriggin' friggin' raspberry shoots,
and fresh bear prints pitter-pattered around the patio.
that's a fact.
and a lightning-strike whirlwind visit,
complete with missed work long drives?
doo-doo buttery for sure.
however,
on the brighter side of a weak-sauce weekend,
i did find an old lady beach hat yesterday,
and,
with the removal of the big bow it had on it,
i'm now rockin' the french farmer look.
scallions, leeks, shallots, tarragon, whatever works y'all.
thanks in part to my new lid,
it would appear as if i'm gonna till the earth like an expert.

or is it experte? (the last e is added for extra expertise)
monsieur sac d'douche?
oui.
that's not exactly a wink, either.
i'm approximating the face of a sad french ploughman, my ninjas.
recognize.
and still the hat keeps workin' it above my grill.
it may be impossible to find a hat that does not suit me.
that's not idle empty bragadoccio blowhardiness, either.
my pointy simian apeman head is designed to be covered...
...in shame, and hats,
but probably not with hair for much longer.
awwwwww, man.
it's all really happening.
bald spots,
road trips,
hair cuts,
hats,
and family visits.
unfolding like origami in reverse,
back to blank squares of possibility.
yeah;
never quiet, never soft.....