Moustache Monday

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I "moustache" you all a very important question...

...but since "eyebrows" the computer right now, I'll "shave" it for later. 



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Ode to the 'Stache
by  Derek Berry

Oh, glorious hairs, sprouting from face!
With warmth and a style no razor could erase,
 Hairs grow like weeds, sturdy lip prongs,
Which are worshiped and are subjects of songs,

It sits as a comrade, a furry, lippy friend,
That you can twist, style, twirl, whorl, and bend,
You are the captain, and it your first mate,
With it you have a bond to which no other bodily hair—can relate,

You might prefer the Belvedere, or perhaps the Dali,
You may sport yours like Frank Zappa and grow a goatee,
It can be a handlebar, or you can let it droop,
One end can be a basketball, the other end a hoop,

You can look like Einstein and look like Ringo too,
You could grow it very long until you need ‘stache shampoo,
It may be a pencil one, or a Fu Manchu,
A moustache is a moustache, and any one will do,

Some look pretty menacing, some look kind of cute,
Some make you look professional, some just like a brute,
You can wear it with a beard, goatee, or mutton chops,
It looks right on cowboys, Hitler, and even cops,

This is a little ode about a little droop,
A single curve of hair that can sop up all the soup,
Some are rather sparse; some look worth a lot of cash,
But never forget the power and coolness of the ‘stache