#7/30 Birth Salon

Cobweb glued,
I find myself back where I almost started, a turn close to the beginning but a tad bit late.
Calling this, the place of my birth is as wrong as let's say Adam discovering after all these millennia that eve was actually here first and he, rib given life

Yea that wrong, but listen,
I'm in a hair dryer at a salon in Memphis for the second time in my life,

-a blizzard left a nigerian chilled winter in this salon 2 years ago, he's so used to frostbite now,he barely notices-

Deja vu walks in, memories in her purse, a used cherry chapstick melting its last
Remembrance, trailing her heels, a broken hearted dog longing for the joints of its dead owner. Sad.
She eyes me before sitting in my lap, finger nails map hidden trails to half healed scars,
Peeling back inadvertently forgotten memories

-there was once a poem like a beast let loose here it spawned a poetic demigod -

-a boy once forsook being a man and decided to be poet right where that barbers chair sits, legendary boy-
blackest keloids ache for her kiss, a kiss that fucks more than sex does on long end of ctober nights,.

My hair begins to stiffen but ca a memory be orgasmic?
Can it pull fireflies from a fluttering croller oaster stomach, rumbling freighter that it is
Can it cause you to stumble as you king Kong your way through the dark hole limbo of your mind, searching for the source of its existence

-every line from his mouth has w fish hook mentality, every poem he spits is raw and flushed, he had to have garguled his words, how else did he make souls erupt,

Or can it be simple?
can memories hold you cob webbed trapped, caught in the fragrance of gel the color of crude oil, basking ant, under a sauna dryer that has 30 more minutes of geyser heat to live...to give?

-he was shaved iceberg frost with a volcanic delivery, at a barbershop in Memphis called steppin up he stepped up, he sits under sauna dryer blowing hot air like a geyser, drying his hair in lock patterns-