MPB by Martin Parsons

I am losing my hair
Oh yes
I can feel the breeze
My fingers slide
On exposed scalp
Hair’s still there
But sparse like kelp

It used to define me
My follicular identity
No need to eat my crusts
For cascading blond ringlets

But thick goes fast
The plughole clogs
What am I anymore?
A slapping stone
A crown of bone
Wispy and envious
Of every passing ‘do

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