Dennis Herrell has been writing poetry for forty years during his adult life as teacher, outside sales person, and, lately, antique dealer. He is like every poet in the world – always in training, and painfully aware of it. Enter his world to read some poems he has had published.
It was haircut day
and a sign said Don's Barber Shop.
I entered Americana circa 1955;
the right hand wall offered kitchen chairs
and magazines that a man needed
for fishing, golfing, and auto mechanics,
enriched by a bible and bible almanac
below two eagles protecting an American flag.
The walls had photos of men
in fresh haircuts and suits
talking to a man with scissors.
I saw mounds of hair in the linoleum corners.
I walked over to the center chair,
where Don himself stood in polyester
and vitalis listening to talk radio
and nodding in agreement.
I looked at the sign that said
In God We Trust
All Others Pay Cash.
( 1/9/04 – Pegasus)