Stiff Sniffles

Hairy women rebel rage
Attacking bleached and blond and brown and straight
and fake while pushing down hate
to love who they are inside
above all else.

Can a plastic model breathe?
Can a glass mask smile?
Can a hairless bust sneeze?
Can a marble bust compile
thoughts enough to think?
Can a baby doll really cry?
Can a marionette really dance
without those tight strings attached?
Can a torso even ponder
life’s existence with no head?
Can a wig stand ever die, or be dead?
Can a manikin look realistic instead
of stick-thin arms and legs
instead of thick heavy muscles?
Or fat deposits around the waist,
flabby arms that seem in haste.
Can smooth skin, so fake,
resemble or partake
in actual human existence?
Can dolls, all dolls stop looking so creepy?
with their glassy-eyed stare devoid of all emotion

So strange to wear
such puffy, frilly sleeves
in order to weave its little game.
Making young girls seem insane
to accept their own flaws
what they were born with all along,
instead of trying to “fix” what is fine and completely natural.
Our hairy bodies are our salvation.
Hairy women rebel rage
and find some appreciation
in themselves.