Friday, April 13, 2012

It's Dark and Lovely Outside and My Hair is Combed

It's dark and lovely outside
And my hair is combed.
Two-thirds races right and back, over the scalp
While the complacent third
sprints past my ear
(a few of the athletes stumble on the crest)
running from the sunny, mid-day voices
of visitors, visiting, dying alone
trying to get through to the brain.

I don't know why I took the time
to feel the bristles of my brother's greasy comb
Tickle my scalp and soothe me to sophistication
I didn't even plan to meet a handsome woman from a party
or a bearded ruffian
looking for a counterpart

I just went to work
and bathed in the
sickly deafening applause
Of a proud ladle, (blood-red gummy flecks on his chin)
and sauce and flour.
"Your hair looks good", she said
And they screamed.

1 comment:

  1. Whoa, so much personification! This is great.

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