The slippery slope of body positivity
Has never been more deterring than when
Gazing at the sun through Lara’s proclivity
To deny herself sufficient calories –
On her search for Divinity
It was clear from the beginning
That body fat and masculinity
Were not sufficient representations
of a Woman’s sexuality –
Tired and cranky, from slaughtering bears
And suspending in the air,
I reached down for my Bonbons and Ramen
cozily atop my un-gapping gammon(s)-
And wondered what of my full body figure
And why Lara Croft never ate dinner.
Bushwhacked by the ghastly sight of society,
through her sundered thighs –
It was obvious that misogyny
Took the form of men who canonize
Chimerical, carcinogenic, images of women.
Maybe they approbate the ersatz only:
Kitana, and Yuna, Catwoman and Clair Redfield –
Those bustling women with unbloused sex appeal;
But opaque and dim is their view of us mortal women
Who live not on TV screens and consoles
But daily ward off opinionated assholes
Who insist that women were fashioned for misanthropic peepholes.
