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.

2 thoughts on “The Cowlick

  1. Hahaha! When I went with my son and grandson to the same barber she kept remarking about how each of us had the same unruly cowlick. She made us look okay. Better than if we had shave a spot bald, I think.

    Liked by 1 person

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