Someone somewhere once uttered three tiny words.
No more than ten letters. It almost seems absurd
that so much could be said by something nominal,
that three minuscule syllables could be so phenomenal.
The owner of these words is, without doubt, mastermind.
to have coined an expression which is so well defined.
Think of sparkling brilliance we’ve admired in the past,
people who’ve made a difference, done great things that last.
I’m talking Boadicea or Curie. I’m talking Galileo Galilei,
I’m thinking Plato and Confucius and what they had to say.
Maya Angelou, Michelangelo, Einstein, Rosa Parks.
Great words, thoughts, actions and art.
Yet there is someone out there, referred to as anon
who pronounced a universal idea, understood by everyone.
Three words that have become a daily leitmotiv.
Just to think of this person is tremendously emotive.
Let’s give this person a name, let’s call her Chantelle.
Let’s give her an identity, some context, as well.
Chantelle was unknown before her movement had begun,
shopping in Walmart, getting gas, doing the school run,
watching Netflix, doing chores, going about her daily tasks
and yet, when someone greeted her, when somebody asked,
‘Are things good? How’s life? How are you today?’
the earth froze as she shrugged, ‘bad hair day.’
Dogs howled, the planet shook, the sky grew dark.
Children scurried home from playing in the park.
All over the world, people pondered her words,
and thus started a hair movement, previously unheard.
Chantelle stood brandishing her dishevelled chevelure
that today no conditioner nor serum, nor gel could cure.
She pointed at her kinks, at her abominable frisette,
and wished she could fix it, prayed she could forget.
But all the world over, a movement had awoken.
Chantelle had pronounced, Chantelle had spoken.
From Hollywood actors to beach bums in Thailand,
from fierce cartel leaders to tough prisoners in remand,
from ex UK ministers to ex US presidents,
from all ageing popstars without precedent,
from tribal leaders to TV stars, to heads of weird cults,
each and every one wished to change the results
of waking each morning to face the dreaded drama
of having hair which looked like that of a hungover llama
To our dear Chantelle, you should show gratitude,
for coining this phrase, this hairy platitude.
One day, she’ll be up there, in the gallery of fame
for describing a hairdo which is less than tame.
Nuala McEvoy is from North West England, but has lived abroad for many years. The pandemic era gave Nuala the time to experiment with writing poetry and she is happy to have had some of her poems published in Lighten Up Online, Funny Pearls UK and Little Old Lady Comedy. Twitter @mcevoy_nuala