Goodbye, I'M Not Cohnny Jash Poem by Tanner Herndon

Goodbye, I'M Not Cohnny Jash



I walked into the Barbershop
Dressed in all black;
The barber sat me down in a
Leather chair that swiveled
Like a shrunken head and had
More cracks than a pair of lips
In a desert
It screams in pain as I sat down,
A squeek that sent a sliver up my spine.
The barber asked what I was wanting
Done with my hair, I told him: 'Forget the hair,
Give my face a shave, will ya? My wife doesn't trust me
Around a razor.'
With that said, he whipped out a cold blade
That glistened like beautiful eyes on a Summer's Day.
He started shaving and moved down to my neck,
I was fighting back a sneeze that felt like I was
Getting punched in the snout.
'Sit still, will you? Or do you want me to
Slit your throat? '
I chuckled a little, and my Adam's apple high fived
The razor.
I told him, 'only if the slit is as small as your eye's, pal.'
Looks like I am walking to my funeral as I was
Going to another.

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