WATCHING UNCLE SHAVE.
Posted: September 12th, 2012, 2:39 pm
Your Uncle Ed
shaved in the kitchen sink
using a cutthroat razor
gazing in the small square mirror
set on the draining board
where the big window
gave him plenty of light
and you used to stand
watching him as he set to work
on his cheeks and jaw
and under his nose
and the dog
in the basket
under the stairs barked
and Uncle said
shut up you hound
and the mutt would bang
its tail against its box
and you looked in
the box at the mutt
and said
quiet Bob
no need to bark
and Uncle got off
the last of the soap
with the razor
and washed his face
with hot water
from the kettle
and dabbed his face dry
with a big white towel
and there were spots of blood
where he nicked himself
and he said
don’t shave boy
it’s nothing
but a waste of time
and effort
because it just
grows back again
and after dabbing dry
his face
and sticking bits of tissue
on the wounds
he went off to dress
leaving you
and the mutt
and the banging tail
and you rubbed
your smooth
7 year old face
with your hand
and said to Bob
I ain’t never
going to shave
and you stared out
of the kitchen window
at Granddad’s flowers
growing in the small side bed
and the white bench
at the end of the garden
where you used to sit
with your grandparents
on Sunday afternoons
watching the blue skies
and telling them
all kinds of dreams
and childish lies.
shaved in the kitchen sink
using a cutthroat razor
gazing in the small square mirror
set on the draining board
where the big window
gave him plenty of light
and you used to stand
watching him as he set to work
on his cheeks and jaw
and under his nose
and the dog
in the basket
under the stairs barked
and Uncle said
shut up you hound
and the mutt would bang
its tail against its box
and you looked in
the box at the mutt
and said
quiet Bob
no need to bark
and Uncle got off
the last of the soap
with the razor
and washed his face
with hot water
from the kettle
and dabbed his face dry
with a big white towel
and there were spots of blood
where he nicked himself
and he said
don’t shave boy
it’s nothing
but a waste of time
and effort
because it just
grows back again
and after dabbing dry
his face
and sticking bits of tissue
on the wounds
he went off to dress
leaving you
and the mutt
and the banging tail
and you rubbed
your smooth
7 year old face
with your hand
and said to Bob
I ain’t never
going to shave
and you stared out
of the kitchen window
at Granddad’s flowers
growing in the small side bed
and the white bench
at the end of the garden
where you used to sit
with your grandparents
on Sunday afternoons
watching the blue skies
and telling them
all kinds of dreams
and childish lies.