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November 21, 2002

A Poem

for western girls who have considered surgery when the thighmaster is not enuf

 

afghanistan they say
is kind to women who in may
are apt to wear from head to toe
the kinds of clothes that do not show
an inch above your heel

and so if you have gained a bit
of weight and when you sit
up straight you still can't see your shoes
and that gives you the blues
well, here's the deal.

fillup your suv with gas
and head off to the kyber pass
there pakistanis guide you to
where the taliban can banish you
and hide you from the world.

to put your self esteem in order
the moment that you cross the border
the mullah has a special plan inside of *his* afghanistan
conducted by the taliban
to set you free from every man
who called you chubby girl.

no man will ever roll his eyes
at your thick thighs
nor dare crack wise
at your cup size
or quote that line about your eyes.

no supermarket magazine
will ever call your size a queen
no complicated weight machine
or diet pill or beauty cream
will make you feel that shameful way
they do in l.a. every day.

no bitches on the maury show
will ever call you a fat ho
in fact i doubt they'll even know
if your waist happens to grow
that is if you decide to go.

one caution i might subtly add
once you're inside jalalabad
it's not assured you can return
despite the calories you'll burn
and pounds you drop through winter.

it's not the civil liberties
(tell me really who needs these)
it's that your old gang won't go green
the real catch is you can't be seen
fourteen inches thinner.

Posted by mbowen at November 21, 2002 07:35 PM

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