Whenever I shave my face these days

I wish my razor was a sculptor’s rasp —

smoothing deep lines in my forehead

removing excess skin from my jaw

exposing my lines from 1999

with an expert flick of the blade.

*

Then I’d spray paint my hair

black

and walk around like I was immortal,

until tomorrow’s shave.

***

Jim

Growing Up Strange
a dream of belize

Jim Mitchem

Writer. Father to daughters. Husband. Ad man. Raised by wolves. @jmitchem on twitter. First novel, Minor King, out now.

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