That · American · (or · not) · Life

This is not about me.
This is about something that has gotten out of hand.
When I decided to put my savage mop to good use
I didn't see the road down which it would lead
and have had trouble seeing many roads since,
as my hair keeps falling in my face,
but that's not the source of my troubles.
No, it's the attention, for once my curls
reached a magical length, they developed
some sort of mane attraction, that pulled
people in. I first noticed at the pharmacy,
the technician, her dark gaze fixed on my locks
said simply, "I like it." But then at the bank
they stared at my hair and asked,
"Are you an actor? You should be."
And down the street I went,
to the dollar store where the cashier insisted
I give her hair care tips. Then came the petting,
in bars, in line at the grocery store,
while waiting for the elevator. I learned
how pregnant women feel when you try
to touch their bellies uninvited.
I was molested, cornered, violated.
Now, when in conversation, people look not into my eyes
but further up, as if I had cleavage on my head.
I'm sure they'll stop talking to me altogether,
preferring my hair's company to mine,
buying it drinks, taking it to ball games,
bringing it flowers. My hair will drag me out
on the town, like the pretty girl's so-so friend
with all the popular crowd hanging out, talking to it
while I sit below, neglected. I wonder how it will be
when my hair gets its first movie deal,
goes on the talk show circuit, writes its autobiography
Life on Top. It's already eying Katy Holmes,
pondering how it will tell her to drop that loser
and get herself a companion with better body.
I'm sure it will end badly when my hair develops a cocaine habit
and a desire to pick up transvestite hookers.
It will wind up on the interstate, naked, unwashed
wielding a .45 and shouting at passing cars,
"I am the greatest! I'm the best thing to happen to this town!
and then the police will come, and if they're kind
they will pluck it out, strand by strand
and lock it away. Leaving me alone with my smooth,
clean pate to start anew,
hairless, but independent.