I Hack Away Happily At My Hair

I cut my hair wildly, for there is so much. I can chop and dice, and split and splice Even when I have bald spots no one sees them Because I dye my scalp to match my hair. Anyway this is the illusion I allow myself As I turn into the Mad Woman of Kansas, And hack away, not wanting to go out in this ice. Knowing how pleased the next beautician will be. “Why did you do this?” they always ask me, Showing me my cowlicks, As if I cannot already see them. They stick up like two horns, pleasing me greatly.