I hated my hair and wished it were straight
so that I could wear it
in a swing or the London Look.
I wanted my hair to be smooth
so the popular girls
would talk to me at school.
Also wished my father
didn't get mad almost every night.
Once he knocked
all the rollers from my head.
The few bobby pins left
dangled like snot
from the wild curls I'd finally caught
with just enough Dippity-do.
I think that set took me an hour.
After that, I let my hair go free.
The straight kids thought I was a head.
You look like Janice Joplin, the hippies said.
And, hey, that was good enough for me.