Bi-Polar Pomade Villanelle
Dennis Mahagin

I call my cowlick Sylvia Plath;

In whistling tempest of Bad Hair Day

Sylvia, she back-flips, twixt ecstasy and wrath.



Water Board sticks her—temporarily, in the bath

When she spits, pitches fits, all the suds turn gray;

I call my cowlick Sylvia Plath.



Suppose I rake her, stage left, w/curling iron gaff

Like some randy flapper in a bad Gatsby play?

Sylvia still back-flips, twixt ecstasy and wrath.



Afro-Sheen? Dopamine? Tried it all on her behalf:

Mere chemicals can’t keep my Wild Hair at bay;

I call my cowlick Sylvia Plath.



Dare I cut her loose from root, or leastwise by half?

That kinky Sylvie Plath, she will go too far one day!

Sylvia, she back-flips, twixt ecstasy and wrath.



Dyslexic pig tail, treble cleft that left the staff,

As Scott told Zelda: If you weren’t such a good Lay …
I call my cowlick Sylvia Plath

Hippie Chick back flips—twixt Ecstasy, and Wrath.

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