Plus Also A Hat

I cut my hair. It’s not as though
I’ve lots to spare, but even so
The unfled few, their presence duly
Noted with respect, are ruly
Just as often as ablaze–
I’m glad to say that’s rare these days,
Perhaps because the kindling’s scarce
(A perquisite of dwindling hairss)–
So my authority I’ve stamped
Upon the scalp where they’re encamped
And now it’s safe for me to roam
Beyond my porch without a comb.


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