At Midnight Every Easter, At The Harbor
By Henrietta Boylan
At midnight every Easter, at the harbor,
A centaur meets your barber on the pier.
The centaur yells in triumph at your barber,
“You mother f*cker! It’s that time of year!”
The barber cuts the centaur’s hair. The locks
Of long, disgusting centaur hair all fall
Into the sea. Sharks eat the hair. The docks
Are echoing with scissor sounds, and all
The haircut noise is heard in nearby towns.
And when the haircut’s through, the centaur screams,
“F*ck you!” then leaps into the sea and drowns.
His corpse has got the haircut of his dreams.
The barber watches as the centaur dives.
He shall return when Easter next arrives.
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