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BAD HAIR DAY Lindsay Hopkins, 1998 Today I am having a bad hair day. It leaned to the left but only halfway. I wish someone would just take it away But then I'll be bald on my wedding day. Oh, my goodness! What will I do? Tomorrow I'm going to a barbecue. I will walk in and say, "How-do-you-do? Then they'll laugh and I'll cry, "Boo-Hoo! There is a hair salon by a saloon. They'll fix my hair before afternoon. The way my hair is scattered and strewn. You'd think I've been in a wild typhoon. I'll be so blue! Then whatever will I do? I'll have to be at the church at two, That's when the wedding march is due. I just don't know why I sit here and worry. I'll comb it and brush it all up in a hurry. Then I won't have to be in such fury I won't have to ship in a wig from Missouri. I can go to my wedding in style And I'll walk proudly down the aisle. I'll never wear another toupee Because I have a back-up for the next: BAD HAIR DAY

NEW YORK WOMAN Scott Poole I have never been to New York but I imagine all New York women having long hair, long hair they are always combing, thick hair that gets loose and crawls down the skyscrapers in the static of the afternoon, past the anxious, the arguments, flying with reflections of angels sifting through rising souls to finally fall over the faces of bums napping between hot dog carts and heating grates, drifting down through dreams onto their stringless violins.

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