|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
“My Hello Kitty” Motherhood Superstar in glitter rainbow facsimile this afternoon one’s childhood any irony in there and if irony then sugar dots I am much more involved with a product than she ever was as being in love with everything that points to the inconsistent nature of our being at once folded at once demure at once scraping the polish off your fingernails I want to point to myself identifying with products all the time I want to say pant instead of pants I take out my hello kitty pen with the silver sparkles and write all over the bathroom wall. were sugar dots glued onto that strip of paper using “actual” glue? if I painted without mouths could they? say something about the pope about Kitty and Mimi attending church on Christmas eve and how it wasn’t totally lame to believe in Santa Claus and how she spoke without a true mouth Is it better for mimi and kitty to be silent craven their secret underpinnings her beauty based not merely on the pink strawberry, not merely on what dazzles from the right ear a treasure of barrettes and hair jewels toe separators for painting each one a delicate how do you do tulip eyeing the transformed self Was the fainted and clouded over moon by turns because of the wind clear and shrouded for burial then forgotten the catheter which seemed unbearable went unnoticed in the shade gloss pot for cracked lips the pop of shiny dragging yourself though the day with only your chococat underwear to guide you the pocahontas panty and bra set squeezed into and out of the middle sea without much mangled the return of the nevernever white glove and hat some kind of bow shoe the steps of that girl hello lunch date slippage tidy warren my melody wanted to say my body as though it needed to be said insert “my body” here anywhere and it’s blocked the prevailing theory of sacrosanct clergy who? renaissance headdress loosely curled around nipples she whimpers “my body” retreats and folds like old-fashioned telephone cord In 1980 when princess di wore that polka dotted aqua dress with that huge bow on the chest I said, I’m never having a baby yards of accordion silk rosacia on the balcony tweed as the future authentic Prada micro fiber hello kitty big heart of my body the constant friendliness your sullen braids slow to swing unwantedness in celeb ration of my body a simple act of choosing a gunpoint ru486 explosion the dead doctor the boy genius the pat on the back acid trip of little twin stars my body again exchanged for law and media expectation and to wear down or simplify the lonely pantsuit in a way that the public can understand My name is Kitty, I am not married to Dear Daniel as you supposed from the wedding collection but Pochacco the faithful snoopy type we have the little twin stars of course and our newest fawn Deery Lou. visit our tudor house we will feed you jelly candy on plastic plates and safety forks washed down with a salad of toothpaste. |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| sarah anne cox
is the author of Arrival (Krupskaya,
2002). Her second collection,
Parcel,
in which "My Hello Kitty" Motherhood
appears,
is forthcoming from O Books later this year.
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||