For my wedding day,
I wanted blond on steroids,
a real shot of puffy poof,
so I asked the hairdresser
to make my hair look
like Dolly Parton’s.
The hairdresser smiled
her bless your heart smile,
as she curled, sprayed,
sprayed some more,
but my straight, fine hair
refused to tower like a multi
layered wedding cake.
It sighed and relaxed
into its lazy way
with a few strands of hair
dangling across my forehead,
so I went full Marilyn Monroe
instead. My frosty curls
stayed wispy through
the receiving line and hung
around all afternoon. Fluff
never made me work so hard.
Melinda Thomsen’s book full length Armature is from Hermit Feathers Press, and Finishing Line Press published her chapbooks Naming Rights and Field Rations. Her poems have appeared in Rattle, New York Quarterly, Poetry East, Tar River Poetry, The Comstock Review, and others. Find her at @ThomsenMelinda