when I was 14 I vowed
never to cut my hair

again I knew all about
driving a wooden picket

pin into the ground
knotting my “never retreat”

braid around it a last
stand final repose hauteur

because it was 1044 weeks,
7305 days, 175316 hours

before chemo and if the gods
hate anything it’s cockiness

and I have no idea where
my braid went how I could

forget about something so primal
to who I thought I was and

if you find my braid cast it
out to me like I said I’d do

for you and pull me out
of the land of the dead