The Shaving of a Beard

The shaving of a beard is our

modern-day memento mori. All growing

things will come to die. Razor-reaper,

apocalypse in Barbasol. Hier ende

ich die Welt. Await the resurrection.

The shaving of a beard is our

self-mortifying penance. Great heroes

wear their beards, we throw ours away.

I am not the kind of man whose

name and face swim unbidden through

the brain. I do not occur to you.

The shaving of a beard is our

confession of dependence, the shame-

faced sigh: I am in need of love.

The beard is a badge of manly

pride, but anathema to woman.

Gone are the bristles from my chin,

the shaggy man no more. For Isaac

loved red Esau; Rebecca, Jacob:

smooth and soft, trickster-hero.

You feel the razor

as it passes,

but you know

not whence, nor

where it goes.