At the back of Enrique's Unisex Barbershop

Past the half-full boxes of Christmas decorations marking the week after three kings day

Past each silver-guilded cubicle,

Islands where each barbero plays sonero top Bushwick’s scalp

 

You gotta go so you

paint girl dick into porcelain

Printer paper pleads

“Do not bot paper in the toilet, please,

No botar papel en el inodoro, por favor,

Gracias”

 

Walking back out, your glitter catches everything

Catches mirror catching mirror catching mirror catching

 

Catches the eyes of a laddered Bori, string lights + tinsel in hand

Catches no comments

Catches rows of cacos peludos anteriormente pegados a sus teléfonos

 

Dirty Jordans wading in currents of abandoned curls, lochs, and strands

 

Your glitter catches the eyes of Doña Rita,

Mask at her chin, showing perhaps the only smile your glitter illicit

 

In your afternoon caffeneited, cannabinated recollection

You ask yourself if she too had a dimple on her right cheek

 

Or if it was just a mirror caught mirror caught mirror caught