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.