Underwood, Robert

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CHERRY'S HAIR VILLAVenetian blinds impose a cool shade upon the shop.Ammonia from perms tightensthe air. Worn issues of Peopleand Good Housekeeping wait as handilyas those 5 sit-down Realistichair dryers. By the sinks, Cherry smilesand applies neutralizer to a curleredhead while that client thumbs throughThe National Enquirer. A wide, chest highmirror runs in front of the finishing chairs.On the counter below it are: brushes,Cinderella Hairspray, scissors, clippers,a framed license, Vaseline and QuantumShampoo. Boston ferns, a Wandering Jewand other greenery grow in given spaces.KNXM is faintly heard. Tacked to the wall by the door is this poem.THEREJohnson yells "You KNOW it's open."Inside, I see him chasing Nacho,his Nicaraguan son, to Lord knows where.Otis Rush is groanin' the stereo'd blues and the Chicken Cacciatore smells erotic.Mai exclaims something in Yiddishas she takes the Chardonnay I've brought.Some Gauguin horses drink on the wall.From the kitchen, Ronda blows me a kiss and poses in that God awful muu muu. Prometheus nudges my leg, hinting for a pet and Johnson comes puffing back to ask "When did you get rid of the Camaro?" It feels just like home.—  Robert Underwood Redlands CA14

Cherry's Hair Villa

https://ddd.uab.cat/pub/wormwood/wormwood_a1989v29n1i113/wormwood_a1989v29n1i113p14.pdf

Cherry's Hair Villa

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