You fit well
Into your box
Your gender role
That tiny apron
Isn't getting
Any looser
That porcelain body
Isn't getting
Any younger
Big hair
Made up face
Manicured nails
Your husband loves you
That treadmill
Really does its job
New car, new watch
Number one consumer
Money grows on trees
You know it
You've seen it
Your children eat it
None of it's yours
Pretty little trophy
Know your place
Or change your fate
Buy a name
Write a book
Kill a few people
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wooooooooooow... actually left me panting at the end of this one...explosive is the only word i can think of right now