Letter to Ken
There you are in the news again
I don’t want to write another poem about you
I am bored Ken, tired of your games, filled with ennui,
a new ‘internet reality show’ – that’s an oxymoron I think?
your backers want you to compete with Her in the fashion-plate stakes – what?
‘the ultimate boyfriend for every occasion’
so you are to be enhanced to resemble
a neck-less, brain-less booby
pumped with iron and steroids
hairless and toothy (they report nothing of your crutch so I can only guess)
full of romantic gestures
you have gone from plastic mannequin to plastic god-freak
truly a fitting consort to that diva in pink
I think they are lying: you are not built to celebrate boyfriend-hood
rather the ultimate genie of