On getting bald. (And old)
I am not.
In the slightest.
I’d love to, though.
No, maybe not old. Or bald.
Just.
Grey.
Around the temples. Like Mickey Rourke used to have.
Sophisticated. But black and white, salt and pepper.
Harsh. But benign, obliging and tender-hearted.
Just.
Like my dad.
