Alice of multi-colored hair
I’ve watched you grow
from Gothic Red
to California Blonde
from Japanimae Purple
to Raver Blue
from Babushka Brown
to Betty-Boop Black.
You candied your hair
like you candied your nose.
Many a night, I watched you
cut coke, or candyflip on acid and
Watching you cut up a full moon,
you complain to me about your
bi-sexual boyfriend, who likes your ass,
more than your bust, which I strained to
refrain from LOOking at, until you
jokingly mocked my attempt me by squeezing them
and calling them microwaved peas!
Your body was Barbie doll plastic,
hollowed out from your
Rave Weight Loss Program:
dancing ‘till dawn on amphetamines.
You act like a drag queen,
who’s fairy godmother blessed him
with the perfect female body.
If Mattel had made you,
you’d be “Acid-Raver Barbie”
you’d come packaged complete with a
Bump-o-Matic coke dispenser,
and a queer boyfriend turned strait.
I’ve watched you cut up coke
like you cut through men,
sniffing them up and moving
onto the next—bump.
But now you’re confiding in me,
how your Jessie drives you mad,
and I watch you mask your anger,
with a new set of drugs.
Instead of snort, you now smoke
your fears away. And my girlfriend laughs,
at how for once in your life,
you almost look human,
from all the weight that you’ve gained.
You left a few years back,
with nothing but the coke on your back.
Last I heard you’re in ‘Frisco with
Jessie, boyfriend of 4 years,
feeling alone and insecure,
hollowed out from years of
purging, but still I sit and wonder:
What color is your hair now?