Reggie with the Box Top

By Bro. Yao

through the doorway, clippers cut

a black wire stretches to the ground

buzzing work in your ears

a mirror in your face-sharp blade

of the cut-the edge-women run

the edge-young men fight for edge

old men move slowly and navigate

the edge-rocking the soul-singing

your own images to sleep

he would stand on the edge of the

highway-we would walk through

the door and he would take his time

approach as though heads were

things to be made love to, crack

the cloth, drape the head, talk the shit

do the thing-all life is cutting, all

life is edge, all life is the shape of

the head and in the end the mirror

in your face-how you like it

what you see-do you look good 

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