I’m aware we’ve been trained to believe that the anorexic frame
Is the most desirable frame of the female form,
Curves are out and thin is in,
But how quickly we forget the sinful thoughts
Of our forefathers lusts-
Have you looked at a statue of a fertility goddess?
All round with rolls the color of cinnamon
Or the Ancient Greeks who dreamed
Of the creamy marble perfection of a fat ass-
Or the small breasted and wide hipped women
With secret smiles in Leonardo’s paintings,
And surely we all remember Marilyn Monroe
With her curves which seemed designed to sway a president,
Yet a desire for thin has become this generations obsession
And the biggest mistake is the equation of thin = healthy.
Yes I may be biased and Yes I have boobs
And yes I have butt
And I have legs and thighs and Irish eyes
And I sing to the skies my hidden pain from this stupid game
That, somehow, having more makes me less of a woman
But you must understand my confusion!
Since when did my sexual organs depend upon size?
Do my large breasts and wide hips not make me, us, we
Some men took weeks, and months, and years to
Paint, sculpt, and film the ideal of curves = femme
Who is our generation to disagree with the rolling peaks and valley’s
Of artistic curvature which has most stood the test of time?
And so I sit back, and wait
For history to make its inevitable curve back ‘round to when the ideal
Was not thin and outer appearance, but the addition and laudation
Of intellectual weight.