Undercut

I had my hair cut last week, and it reminded me why I don't like going to the salon. The truth is sometimes hard to swallow.

Undercut

Tendons now rule the terrain

and "old lady" veins claim coulees

adjacent to bases of knuckles

grown prominent. The knob

beneath my thumb throbs

with a pendulum pulsing ache.

I glimpse my hands in the mirror

before slipping the snitches

under cover like culprits in hiding.

Feign interest in the casual chatter

of hairdressers everywhere.

But my "tell all" neck, peering

over the cinched cape, wobbles

like a turkey's wattle.

The truth trips me whenever I step

into the beauty salon, and short hair

means more potshots to a war-weary ego.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor