Hair

I am on the island of Kauai, my hair has had a lot of sand and tiny sea shells in it from visits to the beach. Just recently I was on the shores and as I was leaving I slightly jumped and asked a friend, hey! is there sand in my hair? She said no, that it was on my face. Thank goodness. After weeks of wash and rinse most of the tiny shells and sands have come out of my dreads. This journey with my wild hair has inspired this poem. There is something about hair that is so important to me. I am reminded of Samson. I am remembering black folk tales of hair and how folks would say watch who you let touch your hair. So in honor of these deeply curly antennae …

Black Girls Hair

Your hair stands on top of your head my child

it points in all directions

sponges suck the water up

don’t let it be too dry

antennas for the heavens

speak of cosmically

wrap them up and hide them underneath beautiful decorated cloth

or t-­shirts you don’t want to wear anymore

or hide them in a sun hat, brim level to your eye

big huge hair you’ve got my girl

dress it in oil

smell likes coconuts

smells like chocolate

smells like dirt

is that sea shells trying to escape from the beach

dry them out

shake them roughly

use your nails

clean your scalp

and please take care your hair

I am remembering this song by Regina Spektor as well