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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1521293-Haircut
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Biographical · #1521293
Remembering what was cool at 16 isn't so hot at 36 (looked at 47, still not cool).

Rockers grew their hair like this,
why couldn't I?
"It's just a haircut dad."
"Well you look like hell."
"I'm 17, can't I live my own life,
I already signed up for the Air Force."
"Won't that drill sergeant love you
with long greasy hair that stands up on top."

I walked out and slammed the door again,
knowing there would be hell to pay
when I came home.
Dad's voice followed,
"Come back when you are
ready for me to cut that hair."

He wouldn't get off my back.
I wondered if Robbie Jr. was home
and had any smokes.
I didn't feel like walking
all the way to Delia's for more.

Seventeen years later,
I look at a picture
and wonder who that nasty-haired boy was.
I remember the day vividly,
but forget why having long hair
was such a big deal.

A shiver runs through me
as I imagine having hair
touch the back of my neck.

Though long hair was cool
to me in 1989,
I never noticed
just how bad that mullet looked
to everyone else!

© Copyright 2009 Lou-Here By His Grace (tattsnteeth2 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1521293-Haircut