I’m Not Better Than Them
I don’t know why these women matter to me
why I wait for their approval,
when their cheap appraisals are thrown down
like Marie Claire’s final judgments on humanity
concerning every beauty product, diet beverage
scrap of pageantry, and outfit
This Starbucks tastes like it was made with full fat
Can you believe she forgot my straw?
I can’t pull off cropped pants and they’re freaking everywhere
It’s like they know I have tragic, stubby calves
Did you hear about Kate Spade? So sad
Do you think my purse will be worth more now?
Forget knights of the round table
I lobby to be a part of
the basic bitches of the four-desk cluster
Convinced it would be better somehow
to be united in anxiety about botox, and overgrown cuticles
to disappear into a flash sale at the J Crew outlet and never return
I’m not better than them
Otherwise, why am I still waiting?
Saving my breath for the day they might ask
Have you ever tried brow threading?
Do you do one pump of vanilla or two?
Do you respect yourself like we respect ourselves?
We want your opinion, really
We do
3 thoughts on "I’m Not Better Than Them"
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Great great great poem. Insightful.
I’m going to go out on a limb and say they’ll never really want your opinion and you know that. And that’s okay, because this community here wants it instead. Keep writing Erin. You have a great voice. And you’ve used it to remind me that I shouldn’t still be waiting, either.
HB said everything I wanted to say. So happy to be reading your writing. You inspire me.
I especially like “Forget knights of the round table”