The Barbie Cycle 9

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 face – you certainly needed it but I’m not sure it’s an improvement

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

The Man

The Barbie Cycle 8

Plastic Love

Let the public vote!  no mind beats in the vacant chest of that malleable coy mistress

Barbie

how can we call it

   love

projected onto those guardians of our childish hearths 

the Lares and Penates of the Pink World?

Love does not bend unless it’s plastic: 

worth unknown but price precise, with discount, tax and shipping

Barbie’s not Time’s fool:  her fuchsia lips and cheeks

blanche only to fashion’s dictate

and alter to match the marketing brief

 – even to the edge of taste and decorum

Ken dallied with the Toys

while Barbie surfed the dating game

now he’s asking us to choose for her  

what hope do our full-sized selves have if elections determine love?

The Barbie Cycle 7

Ken-Ken

Time    stands still                         for style icons.   Take Ken                                     turning 50 this year
	Back in the day                       Ken                         felt             male His                                 lush blond locks
My guess Ken works out             He is wise                    strong melt factor he slips away Gone are the days he doesn’t want to look like a loser Ken is gay                   a handbag                    draws a blank
	Is that why Barbie dropped him?             because Ken started    relaxing            his prostate her pink                       the pink           the pink            the pink Ken has developed a taste

Found poem, after an article in The Age, January 2011