My father shaves still
Lately I have been seeing my father
Shaving at the bathroom mirror
I am about eight or nine
Watching in wonder
Brush slapping on cream
Razor slicing along stretched neck
Scraping cream and black bristles
Clapping his cheeks, face reddening
I am watching him like an alien.
He said that I would shave like him,
When I became a man.
I hoped that I never would.