It's a day for looking my best
So I choose my clothes
And accessories carefully
With an eye for style and color
And shoes and bag to match;
My makeup I apply with precision,
Before turning to my hair
It's a short, pixie cut,
After all, I assume,
How hard can it be?

I apply root booster and mousse
And gel and spray,
I curl and comb
And brush and pick,
And end up looking like Einstein
In the morning.

Frustrated,
I brush and curl,
And comb and pick
And begin to seethe
As my wayward locks
Resist my determined efforts.

Glancing at my watch
I note the time
And realize I must leave very soon,
And so I brush and comb
And curl and pick,
Then groan and squeal
When Don King emerges
From my mirror.

Leaning heavily on the vanity,
I stare at the disaster
That is my hair
Then nod in defiance
Before reaching into the closet
And withdrawing
A wig.