The Aggressive Chicken

1

Recently, I’ve come to loath my hair

Something unseemly, the parting at the crown

A trivial matter, unworthy of my care

Nor my attention. Yet, still, it has me down

2

Something unseemly where it parts at the crown

A wiry texture no product will repair

Despite all my efforts, this hair brings me down

To tame this straw nest, I have not a prayer

3

A wiry texture no product will repair

And not a single hairdresser I have found

To tame this straw nest, they simply have no prayer

No rollers, no hot irons, will smooth this mess down

4

And not a single hairdresser I have found

Can lift me from this darkest despair

No rollers, nor hot iron, shall smooth it all down

Nor scissored remedies upon the barber’s chair

5

Of this hairy mad whorl, I despair

A frizz-laden rat I really should drown

Still, a trivial matter unworthy of my care

When she was just a body, she stopped before the mirror 

Approving. Disapproving. Dazed by the light’s refraction 

Gaze into that glass for long enough, she’s hoping to see clearer 

Vanity. Insanity. Combined this glass delivers 

Impervious to gravity, the high demand of attraction 

When she was just a body, she stopped before the mirror 

A wrinkle, a fold, the affrontery of the old and inferior 

A backside that sags, old eyes with their bags. All infractions 

Of the rules, as the failure of ideals grow clearer 

Dysmorphia as guide, still she subscribes to the body superior 

A fragile chin held up high, a slave to beauty’s abstraction 

Her tummy held in tight. Just a body stood before the mirror 

To age. To digress. To accept nonetheless, and forgive her 

Wonder and ponder, cooly upon her changing reflection 

Nothing more one can do, as the form and face grow clearer 

Know you exceed, what the standards of beauty deliver 

Gifts not yet open promise satisfaction 

With the sum of our flesh stood before our mirror