I dyed my hair
it sticks straight up like a tooth pick
but maybe bushier
because it is thick
my friends don’t care
we share a cup
a toast, a cheer,
we enjoy our sup
Has anyone else had as great a day?
My cowlicks stand up in a resolute way
They are like horns, one of my friends says with glee.
How can this woman be friends with me?
my hair rivals the fur of a grizzly bear
it has its own ways and means
cannot be tamed
refuses to hide two prominent cowlicks
these cowlicks stick up like horns
making me look devil-like
Dippity-Do does not put them down
tired of this, I shaved my head on Monday
Woke up on Tuesday with a full set of hair
a massive mop
both cowlicks stuck their tongues out at me
in the bathroom mirror
Hey! Your hair is sticking up!
This news flash is from a seven-year-old.
I know, I tell him. It’s Dad hair.
I can’t do anything with it.
I have two cowlicks.
Sometimes they both stick up
looking like horns, which goes well with my personality.
You could comb it, my husband says.
He has bought me combs.
No idea where they are.
I have no interest in my hair or the hair of others.
So of course God made me the mother of three daughrers.
Two of them do their hair.
The other one is like me, we don't even like to wash it.
Tonight a male beautician asked me what I wanted.
I said “do whatever you want. I hate hair.”
“Great!” he said. “You will be the funkiest grandma in town.”
“I am already the funkiest grandma in town,” I informed him.
“Do a Mohawk. I don’t care.”
When he finished he said “I forgot to do the Mohawk.”
“That’s okay,” I told him. “My boss is conservative.”
But I did leave him a big tip
for not taking my advice.
Crewcuts, flattops, pompadours
Cowlicks, ducktails, side parts
Clean cuts, Ivy Leagues, slick-backs
Where have all these hairstyles gone
No longer do the cute chicks fawn ...
"The fire has crossed containment lines,
Dunns Road has just been breached,
Emergency vehicles have withdrawn,
You cannot be reached",
Local radio announces every minute,
Evacuation roads are shut,
Power and phones are all now down,
You're alone with the smoke and dust.
Then through the haze of black and red,
Fire cowlicks up your house,
Adrenaline shakes your trembling hand,
Your legs, your chest, your mouth,
It's just you and your hose in the fight,
No mercy- do or die,
Fire licks at everything you have,
Everything left dry.
Then, in a moment, it's gone again,
Wild wind waltzed it up the hill,
And you stand alone in complete silence,
To witness what's been killed,
When, from nowhere, the acrid stench,
From animals now burnt black,
Battle with the pungency,
Life under attack.
Tears now drop, you try to feel,
Deep down you know you're broke,
As you see the stoic volunteer brigade,
Floating through the smoke,
You fall, they catch in arms of love,
Take you away from here,
To a place of peace and mates and hope,
With a smile, a joke and beer.
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.
All that hair
trapped in a braid
silver to the waist
Opal this morning
nude in the mirror
brings the braid up
between her breasts
and around her neck,
a python of her creation
that she promised Elmer
she would cut off
for a pixie hairdo
like Audrey Hepburn
if he would take her
on the Fourth of July
to the Senior Dance,
something Wilbur
would always do
if she wore high heels
and that red dress
and those black
nylons he found
with the seams
like the ones she wore
the day he came home
all crew cut and cowlicks
from Korea.
Donal Mahoney
My yard thrives in wildness.
Patches of dirt- cowlicks of grass.
Every shade of unknown flowers.
My yard is a swayback horse.
Amidst rows of sequined asses
That live just up the hill.
Their lawns sprayed slick with poisonous perfection.
They give me a dismissive wave, but I never see them smile.
My yard thrives in wildness, and they hate me for it.
The wrath of God doesn’t have to be
the size of a hurricane
nor a major flood or forest fire
to leave us all in pain.
It can be an itch or an annoying twitch
a big black hair on your nose
painfully shy or one crossed eye
it’s terrible to have one of those.
Ugly or clumsy or not very smart
we all have our cross to bear
mismatch your socks get chicken pox
or forget your underwear.
Cowlicks birthmarks and knobby knees
all conspire to bring us down,
crooked teeth big ears and zits
are here to make us frown.
With a squeaky voice you don’t rejoice
and bad breath is problematic
as is hobbling on a cane
when you have a sore sciatic.
Oh Dear Lord just look at me!
a melting pot of woes!
As a kid I made a face
and wouldn’t you know…it froze!
What will we do with these gifts from you
bestowed on us in your wrath?
As we complain down here in our shame
do you sit on a cloud and laugh?
But then God said as he shook his head;
“My child I love you so..
these minor things that set you apart
are here to help you grow.”
A loud clap in a text of a digital tap and a message that read out loud,
"hey nerd, this isn't a test--SWAK back! and be proud!"
Oh god the cornman's back and Agent 22 in his tan shorts too,
with the cowlicks in his hair. Down from the ladder the roofing
mad hatters and I invited them in for a beer! We stepped out.
To the patio then.
There's something mighty weird with my picture right here...
"I still like your car my dear..." I heard in the air but this time,
unlike last time, they're not near.
There's something mighty weird in my ear, do you hear?
How is my patio now in my pen?
In a moment ago, we were outside then?
The motion in my room is very slow
and time moves forward to an unknown zone.
This doesn't exist where I am right now and
how did I even get back? The cornmen came
two years ago and the Lion is the one with the SWAK.
But I haven't met him just yet.
"Sealed With A Kiss" he said.
I returned on the Winds, Bacab.
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