In the early seventies,
I had a semi-Afro hairstyle
and a shaggy beard.
I thought I looked like
the lead singer in Mungo Jerry,
but aspired to be Che Guevara.
These days,
the beard is trimmed
and a semi-Afro hairstyle
would look silly
with the Kalahari desert
running from north to south.
At the unisex hairdresser,
a young lady
with a lisp,
nose ring
and jasmine fragrance
asks me if I want a number 1.
I tell her to aim for 2.75.
She chuckles
and says I remind her
of her grandfather.
Even though it’s summertime,
she’s never heard of Mungo Jerry
and she thinks Che Guevara
is a Spanish chipolata.
I had a semi-Afro hairstyle
and a shaggy beard.
I thought I looked like
the lead singer in Mungo Jerry,
but aspired to be Che Guevara.
These days,
the beard is trimmed
and a semi-Afro hairstyle
would look silly
with the Kalahari desert
running from north to south.
At the unisex hairdresser,
a young lady
with a lisp,
nose ring
and jasmine fragrance
asks me if I want a number 1.
I tell her to aim for 2.75.
She chuckles
and says I remind her
of her grandfather.
Even though it’s summertime,
she’s never heard of Mungo Jerry
and she thinks Che Guevara
is a Spanish chipolata.
