POETRY – Big Bad Barbie

 

I’ve been contemplating what’s life like for Barbie,

The bitch has everything she doesn’t need,

A genuine living doll … with baggage,

Prostituted for MATTEL Inc.’s greed.

To represent less than five percent of womankind,

Yet still be a role model for the young,

Have a twelve-inch waist, forty two-inch bust,

Be spoilt, indulged and highly strung.

 

I’d be wanton to be like Barbie,

The pin-up of playful men,

Action figures vying for my affection,

And (after considerable effort) winning it … now and then,

My company always sought after,

For camping, boating or horse rides,

The recipient of continual expensive gifts,

To ensure my presence at their sides.

 

I want to be like Barbie,

Accessorised to the hilt,

Handbags … jewelry… shoes … makeup … clothes,

All provided free of guilt,

I want to be more flexible,

A Barbie with bendy elbows and knees,

Because mine are beginning to stiffen with age,

I’m becoming more robotic by increasing degrees.

 

I want to be a life-size Barbie,

But I’ve probably left my run too late,

By the time that I’ve finished with cosmetic surgery,

I will have passed my ‘use-by’ date,

I could have all of the cellulite sucked out of my thighs,

And recycled onto my chest instead,

Lengthen my legs by eight inches,

But what would I do about my bloody head?

 

Although … if I really was like Barbie,

I’d never enjoy another hearty meal,

Forfeit pleasures of the flesh,

Maybe I’d forget how wonderful good sex can feel.

I wouldn’t have any nipples,

To tease, lick or suck,

I’d have a smooth crotch … closed smiling mouth,

No luscious warm wet openings to … fill (hmmm).

 

And if I truly was like Barbie,

Would you ever hear a word that I’d say?

Overwhelmed by my eye pleasing packaging,

Not renowned as an audio-visual display.

If I talked … would you listen,

Value my opinions … cling to my words?

A combination of intellect and beauty,

A disturbing Reality … Don’t be absurd!

 

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