Letter To Management
I have a job interview tomorrow And already the question has come up more than once: What are you gonna do with your hair? Not unkindly Politely, as if granting me a favour A great kindness, a righteous duty Saving the world one coily head at a time So I curve my lips in a smile that's not really a smile Perhaps the ghost of one that just died. I nod along gratefully and pretend to think it over Yes, what will be done with this hair that dares to be hair? "It's already done" the words dance on my tongue But I know it's not what they really mean ...it's laying it down constantly Convincing it to be what it will never be. I am not so noble, that the novelty does not appeal to me It is simply futile Believe me, I've tried. So what now? I stand and dare to be proud.