Wednesday, March 31, 2010

I Do Not Have Dreadlocks

I do not have dreadlocks.
I may never have dreadlocks.
I did have a nose ring (for two months)
as I approached and conquered
thirty years of age
and I stood in front of coffee shop
audiences, many with dreadlocks,
and read aloud my poems
in the long emphatic drawls
of the spoken-word poet
(you will hear the voice's pitch
rise and fall at the end of phrases).

I now approach forty and
the coffee shop audience is no longer
(really no longer) my peers and
so I found myself this blog today,
on this last day of March,
approaching my fortieth birthday
with a short, straight bob, not
unlike my hair at age fourteen,
but with the inclusion of curly
white wires sticking out,
here and there, reminding me
that I am moving along the path
of life; halfway THERE.

And what I have now is this
blog and my Wednesday
mornings, solitary, of
coffee in a trendy bean house
here and there, there and here--
and these little poems,
that can only exit in this hour long
period away from the baby
and from the house and from
everything else that comes when you
are forty and do not have dreadlocks.

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