Some people make the barber bring His scissors and his comb, His apron, brushes, everything, And cut their hair at home; They spread a dust-sheet on the floor, And bid Eliza guard the door. But O! how tame a way is this, And not for me and you! For, think, the whirling brush they miss, They miss the fierce shampoo, The squirmy change from hot to cold -- A feeling worth its weight in gold. They miss the bustle of the shop, They miss the lathered chin, The barber's onslaught on the strop Before he can begin. They miss the razor's deadly sheen, They miss the fragrant brilliantine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 3 by JAMES JOYCE CHAMBER MUSIC: 12 by JAMES JOYCE SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: WASHINGTON MCNEELY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS VARIATIONS: 15 by CONRAD AIKEN SUSSEX DRINKING SONG by HILAIRE BELLOC CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS MEMORY by HAYDEN CARRUTH ON BEING ASKED TO WRITE A POEM AGAINST THE WAR IN VIETNAM by HAYDEN CARRUTH |