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The Saddest Mustache in the World

Daniel Romo




He sits in his bedroom blasting ZZ Top, twirling his wisps longing for a fuller self, betrayed by puberty for a lack of manliness, a mere bristle in a bountiful mop. Mornings are spent looking through the bathroom mirror with his best friend, Magic Marker, simultaneously filling in the sparsity of an upper lip and covering up difficult teenage years. At school, the bigger beards bully him—slam him into lockers and tease him trestleless, relegate him to a social status behind even his third cousin, Bowl Cut! The Saddest Mustache in the World sometimes gets lost in the philosophical dealings of follicles and often envies the Amish, Abe Lincoln, and East German women, wondering how different his life might be given hairier circumstances. As a youngster, he dreamt of flaunting facial locks in front of his peers, being the first one to sprout grizzly stubble from a fresh face. But today, The Saddest Moustache in the World just wants to be loved, his only wish—to have an adoring finger combing through his strands telling him how much of  a man he is. How much of a damn man he is.




Daniel Romo’s work appears or is forthcoming in Gargoyle, The Los Angeles Review, MiPOesias, Yemassee, and elsewhere. His first book of poetry, Romancing Gravity, is forthcoming from Pecan Grove Press. His second book of poetry, When Kerosene’s Involved, is forthcoming from Black Coffee Press. He teaches creative writing, and lives in Long Beach, CA. More of his writing can be found at

A perfectly healthy sentence, it is true, is extremely rare. For the most part we miss the hue and fragrance of the thought; as if we could be satisfied with the dews of the morning or evening without their colors, or the heavens without their azure. - Henry David Thoreau


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