Straight Hair
I prefer it straight,
the boyfriends always
prattled. Old story.
My friend advised me,
for curly white-girl hair:
Leave it on for less time
than the box instructs.
Lye to wreck
the protein bond, to relax
the coils, hopefully
not break many strands,
though always, filaments
of evidence appeared
in the sink after a rinse.
I could never win that battle,
eyes pink and watery
from the sulfur smell.
When I wasn’t trying
to scare my hair
into a steady course,
I fantasized it
blowing in the wind,
along with the answers
to everything. I was going
for the folksinger look,
as if split ends
made up for how
hopelessly I carried a tune.