“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





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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.