Gente, aproveito o momento para postar mais um poema
de Denise Duhamel em versão original. Minha
versão ao português aparecerá por aqui em breve...
Because she is the most popular doll
of the twentieth century, Barbie
is buried in a time capsule in Philadelphia
on July 4, 1976. She is scrunched between an empty Kentucky
Fried Chicken bucket and a full Coca- Cola can.
She’s become a cultural icon and now she has to pay
the price. She remembers a time
when just a few girls knew her
and she didn´t have to put on such airs.
Now a full-fledged collectible, she has to make sure
every hair is always in place. I’ve just been voted
Best Personality, a superlative category
in our junior high yearbook. I’m able to pose
for a picture with the cute Best Personality boy,
the first and only football player
to ever ask me on a date.
He says he wants to go steady with me
and another girl at the same time.
I don’t think it’s fair but being the Best Personality girl,
it takes me a long time to say that.
You see, it’s turned out that although I’m too old
to still play with fashion dolls, they’ve somehow become implanted
in my subconscious. I don’t look anything like Barbie so maybe I don’t deserve
a boyfriend of my own. And to make things worse, in my mind,
my rival resembles Barbie quite a bit
When I finally write the Best Personality boy
an angry note, flustered, I slip it between the slots
of the wrong locker. The nobody boy who finds it
won’t give it back, even when I ask him politely.
Soon everyone will know I’m not always in a good mood.
Fearing a scandal, I ask advice
of the Best Dressed and Most Likely to Succeed.
They say they don’t care what the masses think –
and though I sense they’re not telling the truth-
suddenly it doesn’t matter if my class
takes my Best Personality honor away or not.
At least I know I’m better off
than that one repressed Bicentennial Barbie
who’ll be stuck in that stuffy time capsule
until the year 2076. Maybe
when she finally comes out, the pressure
will have been too much. Maybe she’ll be able, like me,
to express herself. Maybe she’ll wink at the Coca-Cola can
before they both shake, explode, make a mess.
- Denise Duhamel, do livro KINKY