The Great Wall (of Hair)

A small poem, for your consideration:

Title: The Great Wall (of Hair)

I see the young black women on the bus

wearing their

hair

which seems

more sculpted than coiffed.

The illusion of fashion is plausible

from a distance though fails upon

closer inspection.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't

get that close.

But my focus is drawn to

the extreme artificiality of their

hairdressers' outputs.

I know the wretchedness of the

tortured brittle strands

made to suffer a conformity not

natural to their genetics.

Actually, to all the young black foxes

on the CTA*, I'd like to say:

"Off with it! Crew-cut it down to

virtual militariness. It's only

hair.

If your man will ‘love' you more for your stylized hair,

then he's less worth

having than your stupid

hair."

Saw a movie once called THX 1138 and beheld

on screen a scarcely hairy-headed beauty. Was

struck dumb, I was,

by her deliberate yet delicate

manner which no amount of or shaping of her head

hair

could have bettered.

There is a great wall that divides

me from the hairy-conscious ones.

It's only hair...

Run the ‘lectric clipper over it yourself,

cutting out the middleman.

This I do and I can't begin to tell you how

free

I feel.

Steven Searle for US President in 2012

Founder of The Independent Contractors’ Party

“I used to write poetry, in my early 20s. I burned it all, except this single piece” – Steve.

*CTA: Chicago Transit Authority: Chicago's mass transit system of buses and trains.