This poem has big white teeth and red lips.
This poem has a practiced smile,
winks at the judges:
pick me! pick me!
This poem is clumsy in
Its high heels and swimsuit
but has very nice thighs.
It is pure and freckled.
It cares about education and hungry children.
It is cute, and wants to be famous.
This poem looks good
in stained overalls and thick-soled boots.
It doesn’t wear lipstick,
but secretly wants to.
It builds a birdhouse,
travels pristine landscapes alone,
has ambivalent feelings toward men.
It pretends to question its sexual preference.
It pretends to ignore the judges.
This poem is exhausted.
It wants to go to sleep, but can’t.
It wants to make that last sashay
across the stage
in hopes that it will be the one
wearing the crown-
mascara running,
mucous bubbling from her nose
in front of thousands of people.
No comments:
Post a Comment