Monday, June 11, 2007

This poem was actually written to fulfill an assignment to read out some feminist fictions of my own in a reading session in Fiesta Feminista this Saturday. But well, in the end, I won't be reading it. I'll be reading my short story 'Raped...or Not?' instead.

Anyhow, I shall dedicate this poem to Jensen, who sparked this poem by answering 'Shopping', when I asked him to tell me the first thing that comes to his mind when I say 'Women'.

Two women walk into a store,
one is dressed fashionably
candy cane red heels
swaying hips wrapped in silk
and confidence,
face sculpted with perfect makeup;
The other is dressed simply,
tired blue jeans and an oversized
T-shirt that is stained,
lying flat upon a body hunched
with hopelessness and despair.

As they browse around the store
they pick items up occasionally
look at the price tag
then place them down again carefully,
the fashionable woman sees
Time on a bright pink wheel,
running on it tirelessly
like hamsters in pet shops,
the jeans-and-shirt woman picks up
a row of miniature jars with babies
as colorful as jellybeans,
she wonders briefly if they are as chewy, too;
but the thought disappears as soon
as she puts the jars down.

Finally, they decide on what they want
and go to the counter to pay,
the fashionable woman buys
feminism at fifty cents a bottle
the jeans-and-shirt woman buys
beauty at seventy cents a piece,
Satisfied, they go back home.

The jeans-and-shirt woman
strips and wears beauty
like a clinging dress,
hoping that her husband at home
will settle his roving eye upon her.
The fashionable woman
sprays herself with feminism,
thinking that the scent will
restructure the guests' olfactory senses
at the dinner party,
making every other smell
fade into thin slivers of air.

Upon reaching home,
the jeans-and-shirt woman
now in a clinging red dress,
finds her husband impeccably dressed
and in a rush,
as if he were late for a date
She smiles seductively and
stretches out a long bare leg,
It works.
He stops whatever he is doing
and stares at her
long and hard.
She is standing a little straighter
smiling a little brighter
staring a little sexier
They make love
his date left forgotten.

The fashionable woman
sprays herself with feminism,
When she arrives at the party
the guests immediately turn towards her
their vulgar chatter stops to a standstill
'It is changing them,' she thinks, excitedly
'changing the way they smell and perceive!'
Enlightenment dawns upon their faces
sweetness dispelling bitterness,
their chatter changes tone,
But, at the end of the party
the scent begins to wear off
old smells veil them once more
in thick impenetrable clouds,
Most throw parting words
of drunken vulgarity.

Only a few leave with the
lingering new scent
that the fashionable woman bought,
at fifty cents a bottle.

~