The Cowlick

I have a cowlick in my hair

that drives me quite insane.

Those strands of hair will not lie down;

it’s hair you cannot train.

Yet Tuesday morning when I woke,

I had a different thought —

I’d make those hairs behave for once,

no matter how they fought.

I combed and brushed and combed some more,

but still they would not lie,

and so I got my brother’s gel —

it sure was worth a try!

I took a great big glob of gel

and slapped it on that hair,

so when the cowlick popped back up,

all I could do was stare!

Five bobby pins would not keep down

those nasty, stubborn strands,

and neither would, you won’t believe,

my sister’s three hairbands.

I now agree I lost my cool!

In fact, I went too far!

I used a tube of Superglu

before I used the tar.

Despite all that, those hairs soon poked

out from that tar so black,

yet I would not admit defeat,

and made one last attack.

“You’ll stand no longer, stupid hair!”

I ranted and I raved,

but now I’m truly sorry ’bout

the bald spot that I shaved.

“The Cowlick” was originally published in my poetry book, The New Toe: Poems To Tickle Your Funnybone”, in 2001.