So I posted a poem as it appeared the other week I thought I’d post the edit. I recently had oral surgery which was necessary but the sheer brutality of it and the resulting bruising, swelling and pain made me ponder the results of elective surgery. Women in bits seems to be a theme I return to and society seems to show no signs of slowing down in throwing up adverts that promote this idea, Eurostar and your bra ad I am looking at you, cutting women up, breaking them down into packaged parts cutting out faces and eyes, the line of communication seems to be a recurring theme in modern advertising images. Anyway here is the current edit, it is still in flux, please offer advice and commentary.
The Woman Who Was All Used Up
First pluck out your eyes
no longer see lascivious stares or sneers
men pantomiming your breasts
on their own flat chests:
your fault for having a comical body,
for being other.
Besides your eyelashes were likely to be too pale and short
and the iris not the startling uniformity of contacts.
Van Gogh both your ears, no longer hear men clamouring
for your attention, trying to persuade you into car seats,
no longer hear ‘’bitch’’ when you don’t respond
no longer hear the latest ad for ridding yourself
of those unsightly underarm wrinkles.
take off your breasts, that outward provision of femaleness.
An abundance, a lack, not enough in common with silicone.
Lock your cunt up in a box, nothing left to grope
or aim for between the legs.
Then unscrew those legs at the hip joints
those shapely ankles, those thighs
always too much in the thigh,
the wrong texture, all that hair, those visible veins
the beastliness of a functioning body
pumping away, growing hair, oxidising, exuding odours, shedding skin cells
modern beauty is stasis.
Still feel strange men breathing down your neck on the bus
save on your make up bill.
Remove all that lovely adipose tissue, curved muscle
dismantle the skeleton, those sexy bones beloved of billboards
and leave only:
those ugly pumping veins and the unnoticed brain.