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Men & Other Strange Myths:
BARBIE'S SHOES
I'm down in the basement
sorting Barbie's shoes:
sequined pumps, satin courts,
western boots, Reebok sneakers,
glass slippers, ice-skates, thongs.
All will fit the dainty, forever arched
feet of any one Barbie: Sweet Spring,
Glitter-eyed, Peaches and Cream,
a Brazilian, Russian, Swiss, hong Kong,
Hispanic or Mexican, Nigerian
or Black Barbie. All are cast
in the same mold, same rubbery
impossible embodiment of male fantasy
with carefully measured
doses of melanin to make
a Caucasian Barbie,
Polynesian Barbie,
African-American Barbie.
Everyone knows that she is the same
Barbie and worthy of the American Dream
House, the pink Corvette, opera gloves, a
hundred pairs of shoes to step into. If only
the differently colored men and women we know
could be like Barbie, always smiling, eyes
wide with admiration, even when we yank
off an arm with a hard to take off dress.
Barbie's shoes, so easily lost, mismatched,
useless; they end up, like our prejudices,
in the basement, forgotten as spiders
sticking webs in our darkest corners,
we are amazed we have them still.
-- Hilary Tham (from: MEN & other strange myths)
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