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Poems
125
Skeptical Commentary
on Mr. Gică’s Love Poem
It is possible these were not precisely the words Mr. Gică was
thinking. He is the world’s greatest barber, and he knows how
anyone’s hair smells, at whatever distance, just by its shine.
Mr. Gică never heard Sadoveanu recite “Hillside Eve,” and
even if he had, years ago, in elementary school, by now he’s
forgotten. He is the world’s greatest barber and does not have
autumnal feelings except when he trims the herds of children
who come before September 15
th
. An alp-horn? A farmer
with a scythe? No scythe. Just a razor and scissors. A locust
tree? Just a neon sign and mirrors. A church bell? Just a comb
knocking off the dandruff against the sink. Only love was once
the same. Or maybe not. Only expectation would once have
breathed the same. Mr. Gică is the world’s greatest barber.
He wouldn’t have had any reason to have noticed, even once,
a woman’s legs. And even if he did, it was years ago, before
he went to trade school. And he’s forgotten.