#MIDDLEBURY
When America Cuts My Daughter’s Hair
Jenny Browne
every chair in the strip mall
salon where she rents
a little space of her own
reflects a face waiting
to make a change. Another
mother next to me rips an ad
for the full Hollywood wax
& here the best graffiti:
DON’T DO DRUGS, BE SAD.
They’ll grow back, my own
mom on the bangs I butchered
more than once. Do you think
America is pretty? This skinny
blonde kid who never really
has to ask if she is, asks me
as we walk more hot city blocks
because by now we’ve chopped
the pecans to protect the power lines.
I think America is pretty. A pierced
Xicana with one side of her own
do done in deep brown waves,
the other buzzed tight
& dyed a bright chemical green.
America fits the description
& when she’s done holds up
her small mirror in the big one
turning my girl around
so she can see herself.
You can call me Erica, she says
if you like, but we like
America better here.
About this poem
“America’s family is originally from San Luis Potosi, Mexico, and she works on Saturdays. My daughter pointed at the haircut she wanted, and America asked, ‘So what do you like best about this picture?’ This seemed like a really good question.” – Jenny Browne
About Jenny Browne
Jenny Browne is the author of “Dear Stranger” (University of Tampa Press, 2014). She teaches at Trinity University and is the 2016-18 poet laureate of San Antonio, Texas.
The Academy of American Poets is a nonprofit, mission-driven organization, whose aim is to make poetry available to a wider audience. Email The Academy at poem-a-day@poets.org.
(c) 2016 Jenny Browne. Originally published in Poem-a-Day, www.poets.org. Distributed by King Features Syndicate.
