I have, vamping, singing
upon my old, white chest
of socks and underwear drawers,
a Barbie doll, large of breast;

Given me long ago, a joke,
for Christmas, to poke,
fun at a request I made for a blonde
in a sexy, slinky black dress. How fun!

But now the Barbie serves
as a sad reminder
of when I’d curve
up from behind her,

and the only low
blow
I came to know
was “NO!”

And the Barbie, still, looks the same.
But my world has changed.