LIKE GERMAIN GREER’S HAIRDRESSER

 

Like Germaine Greer’s hairdresser
My life has been an embarrassing failure;
Unable to meet a huge challenge,
Riddled with uncomfortable, curly expectations,
I know nothing of the new wave of ire.
 
Under there somewhere is a decent brain
But its public presentation
Laments a bitter interlude.

I am not a millionaire. Not yet.
I am not a famous painter in New York.
I managed a brief fling through earnest application.
I made some impact on insipid news.
I was a legend for a little while
In a coffee shop that is now
A discount dentist’s surgery.

A miraculous transformation was not my lot.
Like an ageing celebrity desperate for attention
How my life became a sojourn of dreary talks
Displaying private angst, discussing famous friends.

Motionless rigour, the hot twirly wand,
The long-necked theory of life
That is disagreeable on principle;
How I have failed to grasp the brave diversion.

I too missed the 1990s completely
But have opinions on everything
From lunch to World Cup soccer.

Swanking locks of lovely wisdom
Was not within my endowment either.
I used what it was I was given only to come up short.

My life is measured out in twisty rancour.
I’m in love with nothing. I’ve lost my flair.
Among poets I am an unhappy stylist.

 

- O. Spaniel Murray