30/30: Day 4

"The Shop"

They call me "Mike Irv"

Before I began to consult "In The Cutt"

To get the newest neighborhood buzz

I had only seen, or heard about "barbershop nicknames"

In movies

TV shows

Or all of the above

I've been informed

Of my supposed resemblance to Michael Irvin before

But any statement achieves maximum credibility

Only when it enters the barbershop atmosphere

Then, it is property of the gods of gossip

The sultans of scandal

And therefore

Can never be dismissed as fiction

I stop by every Tuesday

Alternately Saturday

But that's only when there is no WordPlay later

And watch as the neighborhood

Gets the latest gossip carved into their heads

The air smells of aftershave

And rumors about who fucked that bitch

That just walked out

Explaining her acquaintance

Not every customer is in need for a shape-up

Or a cut however

Some visits are made

Because hood barbers are the smartest weed-men around

And anyone with a head full of hair

And a working brain inside

Will come "shop" with them

These hood establishments

Held together by money and hearsay

Cheddar and chit chat

Are stapled to the hood

Like flyers to bulletin boards

And subconsciously

Interlock it by its roots

All at the sound

Of a set of clippers.