Fuzzy's Barber Shop

Not even down the street from my house,
cut through the empty lot, and two doors over
there, a man with curly hair
and normally the same hat,
cut and dusted my grampa's grays off,

sprinkling the floor
they'd talk about the latest news
and they loved to tell me stories 'bout
how much cheaper things were in their day
they were proud like they charged the prices
and didn't pay them, but they did amaze
me imagining what i could buy
if vanilla wafers still cost a dime

if I could tell someone
that I rent a nice house for a hundred dollars,
I'd have the same pride--
that should come with finding a good bargain

they talked about the women
and what they looked like
what they used to look like, too

they wondered if I was listening
or even gave a damn what they were saying
they told me to not worry about about boys,
they wanted one thing and "dey disrespectful"
i noted that from the old men

Fuzzy gave me candy and regularly updated me
on how big i was getting
he was known by us with grandfathers
who'd lived in the neighborhood
long enough, or got the hair cut
we'd gang down to his place
and see what goods he had to come after
garlic bread and ketchup,
i think the store sold us ketchup with those
We'd split the cost 75 cents a piece
at that thought, a reminiscent smile spreads across my face
you can't find that today