Mattel: An Ode by Barbie

Barbara ''Barbie'' Millicent Roberts on her 50th birthday

by Creeley Piker

YOU won't do, simply won't do
Any more, see-through plastic zoo
In which I have stood a specimen
For 50 years, vivacious yet stolid,
Never daring to breathe or say ''Boo.''

Mattel, I may have to kill you.
You big corporate windbag--
Elmo Tickle Handed with that insipid red face,
Moribund as your Bratz line

I've this freakish body
(Though I must say I'm proud
of my point-like yet dainty feet.)
I used to pray to change all this.
But not now.

In Japan, in a seaside town
Flat and blackened by the A-bomb
They like kittens! kittens! KITWEEENS!
And they sell underwear in vending machines.
My African American friend Michelle,

With whom I share Jason Wu,
Such lovely lines, such flare
The First Lady inspires me to dare
To really talk for myself.
But my tongue's stuck in my mouth.

I am stuck, in the blankest stare.
With an itch, itch, itch,
That I can never scratch
I am available in every language
Every young girl's pillow-whispered dream

A figure, a mannequin
As fake as some botoxed mall-loving moll.
A doll in Melrose, Miami Beach, Jersey.
I began to talk like a doll.
I think I may well be a doll.

The stunning lavender of my Surf's Up Cruiser,
the deep ocean blue shingles of my dream house
Are perhaps not real or even true.
With my Polish pedigree and my blonde locks
With my pets and lead-laden accessories
I may be a bit of a doll.

Mattel, I have always hated you,
With your marketing people, your higgledeeboo.
Giving me friends like Midge and Drew,
One had the crabs, the other sniffed glue
Corporation, corporation, O You--

Not a man but a Ken
So dim no light can shine through.
Every woman adores a douchebag,
The pecs in the face, the cute
Cute heart of a boytoy such as Ken.

Mattel, you stand in the boardroom,
In the image I have of you,
Obese as a Cabbage Patch orphan,
Face oily and fat as the Moon,
Looking much like Big Jim who

Kung-fu gripped my heart in two
Or that turtle with his sai ninja blade
And all his talk of the ooze
I've had enough of all of you.
If I could leave this box what I could do!

Time has been unkind to us two--
Arthritis and hot flashes, it's true,
It's time I retired with Dancer to Malibu
But what will happen to you?
Mattel, with the recession gripping you.

There's a hole in the world's wallet
And the children and their parents would never love you.
If they knew you like I do
If they could kung fu you.
Mattel, Mattel, you poo poo heads, I'm through.

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